Semi Charmed Life
by Kerichi
Summary: Within the Marauder band of Merry Men, Sirius is the dashing Will Scarlet. Seventh year, his goal is to help Robin woo Maid Lily, avoid sermons from Friar Moony, aid a rat in need, and win the love of a fair lady. Sequel 'A Charmed Life' also complete.
1. The Wild One

A/N: If anyone wonders where the idea for a Sirius/Rosmerta story came from, it was from a quote in PoA. Hosting the meeting above the Broomsticks, Rosmerta said, **"Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought…I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead." **Those little ellipses and the defensive sounding "I mean," made _me_ wonder... Nothing much is known about Rosmerta. The HP Lexicon speculates that she's in her thirties or a little older, since she was running the pub when the Marauders were in school, but what if she made the bad choice to run off after her sixth year…and came back to run the pub in Sirius' seventh? What if they met again in a way that became the start of a complicated romance? I don't think it's beyond the realm of possibility, considering Ron's well documented crush on her in the books...and that a certain HP actor admitted to a "friendship" with his makeup artist who was a similar number of years older!

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Behind aviator sunglasses, Sirius Black's eyes crinkled in a smile. He felt like grinning, but had learned through experience bugs were not tasty. He smiled with lips firmly closed.

The view of the Scottish countryside was impressive, but Sirius slowed his flying motorbike only to double-check the motorway below. No Muggle travellers were in sight. He thought of Muggle aircraft and smirked as he told himself, _you are cleared for landing,_ before disengaging the invisibility booster. The bike descended rapidly. Within moments, the wizard had adjusted to riding pavement instead of air. He gripped the handles and accelerated, bending low as the bike surged forward. Sirius leaned into the curves, felt the rush that came with speed and revelled in the intoxicating sense of freedom.

His destination was the Wizarding village of Hogsmeade. A wry grin spread across Sirius' face in response to the memory of James' reaction to his plan to stash the motorbike before term. His best mate and former manager of mischief did not approve. He was Head Boy now, advising caution and moderation. How the mighty had fallen.

Fallen for a girl, although Jamie-Boy pretended the fifth year prank gone wrong had made him re-evaluate his life. Sirius knew better. There was a redhead behind his friend's change in attitude. Mental about Lily Evans, James Potter was determined to win her over by reforming his marauding ways.

Sirius reached the village and slowed the bike to a sedate roll down narrow streets. Frowning, he thought there was no reason why James couldn't win the Head Girl and have fun too. This was their last year at Hogwarts! The reputation of the Marauders was at stake. It was a moral imperative they go out in such a blaze of glory, their deeds would be immortalised and their memory revered by all mischief-makers to follow.

His anticipatory smile caused a chain reaction in the villagers Sirius passed. Shopkeepers smiled or waved. A trio of little girls skipping rope stopped to giggle behind their hands. Further down the main street, a crone directing her enchanted broom to sweep the pavement outside her cottage looked up and called, "I've got a pan of gingerbread cooling in the kitchen, Mr. Black."

Stomach rumbling, he coasted to a stop beside the kerb. "Knew I was coming, Mrs. McFee?"

Remus Lupin, the social conscience of the Marauders, had been the one to suggest they do odd-jobs for the widow to balance their mischief. Mrs. McFee accepted all help gratefully, but Sirius knew she liked him best. She was always baking sweets, claiming he needed fattening up. Peter Pettigrew had turned pale, hearing her say that, and shied away from the enormous baking oven. Later, the boy had confessed to worrying she would toss him in, like a witch in a Muggle fairy tale, because he was already podgy.

Sirius grinned over the mental image of Peter in a roasting pan complete with apple and laughed when she nodded and cackled, _"By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes!"_ Her tone changed from Shakespearean to motherly when she added, "Don't leave without your gingerbread, young scamp." Gnarled fingers reached out and gently pinched his wrist. "There's not enough meat on these bones."

"Girls like me lean and hungry, but I'll stop back," he promised with a wink, before continuing on to The Three Broomsticks. Although he did his drinking on the sly at The Hog's Head, Sirius, like every other student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, preferred the Broomsticks. It was clean, had a real fire instead of sullen coals in a grate, and served food that wouldn't land him in the infirmary.

Outside the pub, he lowered the kickstand, noticing there were flowers in window boxes that had been empty as far as he could remember. The fall colours looked nice. He smiled to see smoke drifting from the chimney. Even with a warming charm, his ride had been chilly. He dismounted and stepped toward the door.

Inside the shadowy entry, he halted abruptly, staring at the woman behind the bar. He hadn't seen Rosmerta in ages- since the girl had run off after her sixth year. Seeing her still made his heart leap in his chest. Pulse racing, Sirius felt the blood rushing to his face exactly the way it had second year, during that fateful visit to the Restricted Section…

_Scowling, the young wizard prowled toward the back of the library. Tired of being annoyed by slobbery displays of unwanted affection, he had decided to find an Aversion Charm that would work on just girls. Sirius didn't want his mates taking him in dislike, or professors either. He still had another week of detention left with Slughorn. He didn't want any more. There were only a few weeks left until summer holiday!_

_James had thought him joking, but Sirius would have the last laugh when girls left him alone and batted their eyes at someone else. Approaching the shelf Remus said should contain the correct tome; the boy heard a soft noise and dropped to a crouch. Slowly, he moved forward and peered warily around the stacks. What he saw made his jaw drop._

_A couple was snogging on the window seat. Sirius had seen people kissing before, but this was strikingly different. Robes and blazers and ties were strewn on the floor. The boy was kissing the girl like he wanted to devour her. Eyes closed, her lips parted on a moan. The boy shifted her in his arms, kissing her throat and caressing down her arms while she leaned back against his chest._

"_Rosmerta, my goddess..." _

_Sirius was riveted by the passionate scene, even though he wanted to tell the slimy blond Slytherin to leave the girl alone. He had heard rumours that the seventh year Chaser was after the popular Hufflepuff, but hadn't believed them. He'd thought Rosmerta too smart to believe a snake's lies. _

_He'd been wrong. Sirius watched the boy's fingers undo the bottom button of the girl's blouse and move up to work on another one. She laughed huskily. "I may be named after a fertility goddess, Jonathan Wilkes, but I'm not letting you worship me."_

_The watching eyes travelled from the smooth, pale skin of her abdomen to the rosy lips and cheeks surrounded by tumbled gold curls. All at once, Sirius Black understood why blokes went off their rockers about girls. Face hot, he was torn between conflicting desires. He wanted Rosmerta to close her blouse…and he wanted Wilkes to finish opening the front clasp of her bra._

_Suddenly, the girl's eyes opened. They were so blue…and growing wider as they focused on the silent witness._

"_Jonathan, stop! I've got to get back to my house. I promised my friends I'd help them revise."_

_While her boyfriend laughed and continued to reach for the elusive clasp, Rosmerta mouthed 'GO!' at Sirius. He nodded and crawled away before standing and breaking into a run. _

_Back in the Gryffindor common room, his friends were playing wizard chess. James looked up when he drew near, saying laughingly, "Did Pince catch you in the Restricted Section? You look like you've seen a ghost."_

"_No, I just didn't find the book." Sirius dropped into a nearby chair. He tried to forget what he had seen, but the knots in his stomach told him the memory was going to haunt for a long, long time._

_- _

Sirius walked toward the bar, shaking his head to clear away the past. When Rosmerta looked up casually and then did a double take, a confident smile tugged the corners of his mouth. Even though she was lovely as ever, he knew he'd changed a hell of a lot since second year. Nobody called him pretty-boy anymore. His smile widened. Birds did call him bloody gorgeous. He impulsively decided to make a boyhood fantasy come true. Sirius took off his sunglasses and went to chat up his dream girl.

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Rosmerta had been polishing a glass when she heard the front door open. After a couple minutes of silence, she looked up briefly and then took another, longer look at the man entering. The first thing she noticed was his fit body encased in a battered leather jacket and denims. Her polishing motions became slower. The swagger in his walk told her he was used to the admiration of women, even before she got a good look at his face.

And what a face it was… Overlong black hair framed features that would've been too perfect if it hadn't been for a slight bump where his aristocratic nose had been broken. The wicked glint in piercing gray eyes said he was a bad boy who would show a girl a good time. Appearing to be around her age, the customer's smile was as sinfully appealing as the rest of him.

_Too bad I've sworn off men_. She sighed, the glass dropping from her fingers to the bar. He picked it up and held it out. Their fingers brushed. The chemistry was immediate. Deciding that a friendly chat never harmed anybody, she smiled with her eyes as well as her lips. "Thanks. What can I get you?"

His slow grin warmed better than hot chocolate. "I'm driving, so I'd better stick to Butterbeer."

She filled a tankard with the warm, frothy beverage and placed in front of him. "Driving what?"

"A motorbike."

Oh Merlin, what was that old film she'd seen on the telly when visiting her Muggle-born friend during school holiday? _The Wild One… _Rosmerta hadn't understood half of what those Yanks said, but one line was memorable, and she could picture this bloke responding to the question of what he was rebelling against with _Whaddya got? _She tried not to laugh. "Cool."

He gave a bark of laughter. "Yeah, that's what I thought, literally, flying here from London. Summer is definitely over."

"I don't mind. I'm enjoying the change." She was speaking of the recent change in her life as well as the weather, but Rosmerta wasn't about to ruin a light-hearted flirtation with heavy subjects.

"I haven't seen you tending bar before. Have you just moved to Hogsmeade?"

Rosmerta shrugged. "I grew up here. My father owns the pub. He asked me to come back and run it, so here I am." She reached for another glass to keep her fingers from doing something rash, like smoothing back his silky-looking hair. After smiling into his eyes for several moments, she asked, "Do you come by often?"

The attractive stranger chuckled. "Every weekend I can."

Now she had another reason to look forward to weekends- more custom and a gorgeous man to occasionally drop in for a chat. Her smile widened. "I'll look forward to your visits."

He leaned toward her. "I've got a confession to make. I always liked this pub, but now I find it downright irresistible."

Was she blushing? No, it was just warm. She'd added a few logs to the fire right before this charming rogue strolled in. His seductive smile provoked her to show two could play that game. Setting the glass aside and bracing her hands on the polished bar, Rosmerta leaned down until their eyes were level. "Oh, really?"

"Really."

His eyes looked smoky now. She fought the urge to fan herself.

Masculine lips curved temptingly. "In fact, I'll make an Unbreakable Vow that nothing will keep me away, if you'd like."

"No vow is necessary. I'll be happy to see you whenever you stop in." His heated gaze was causing a melting sensation she hadn't felt in years. Rosmerta wanted to prolong it. "Are you hungry? I was just about to take a dinner break, and I'd enjoy the company." She broke off, laughing ruefully. "Merlin, I don't even know your name. I'm Rosmerta, and you are…?"

"_Sirius Black! Good to see you, lad!" _called Hagrid, groundskeeper at Hogwarts. Lumbering into the pub, his smile flashed through a thick black beard. "That's a fine motorbike you've got. Are yeh sure you won't mind me takin' it out for a spin now and again while yer in school?"

"Feel free. After all, you're doing me the favour of storing it."

As Rosmerta listened, it felt like all the blood drained from her head and then returned in a painful rush. She knew that name. In amazement, her eyes flickered over the young man who she remembered as a second year with an angel's face and wide, staring eyes. Mother of Merlin, he'd changed! Grown so tall, with features that had lost all trace of baby softness…like his muscular body. With effort, she pretended Hagrid's revelation wasn't a complete shock. Inwardly, however, she was reeling from the knowledge that Sirius was only a seventh year. Stars and stones, she'd been coming on to a schoolboy!

Immediately, her mind began to rationalise. _I wasn't trying to get on with him; I just wanted some pleasant company for a change. _

"C'mon, lad, let's bash on before we get chucked out. Rosmerta here needs her dinner, and I've got stew and treacle fudge waiting for us."

Afraid Sirius would mention her rash invitation, she said, "Enjoy your supper. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Black and good seeing you, Hagrid. Goodbye."

Tossing a few Galleons onto the bar, the boy, who looked way too manly for her peace of mind, said with a meaningful look, "Au Revoir." 

_Till we meet again._

She gave the bright, impersonal smile she'd perfected over the years and resumed polishing an already spotless glass. Hopefully, Black would get the hint and not expect to take up where they'd left off the next time he wandered in. Glancing up, she met a steely gaze and flinched. He'd got the message, all right, and didn't like it. Her chin lifted. Too bad.

He reacted strangely to her look of defiance. Sirius smiled.

Rosmerta closed the pub after the men left, warded the door and headed to the stairs. Maybe Da would have more of an appetite today. Knocking on his door, she pushed it open upon hearing the terse 'Enter'. "Hullo, Dad, the steak and kidney pie is almost done. What would you like to drink with it?"

The invalid propped up on the bed turned his lacklustre gaze from the window. "One o' thae ales."

Heartened that he'd replied with something other than a shrug, she teased, "Heather ale?"

Features that had been full and strong before the climbing accident were now thin and frail, but his eyes hadn't changed. Right now, they blazed blue. "Don't be daft. Not enough colour."

"How about a glass of the wee heavy?"

"Aye."

The hint of a smile in his voice was something new. She took a calming breath and asked, "Would you like some company? I could read you the _Prophet_."

In the weeks since she'd returned, he'd never accepted the daily offer. This evening, her father nodded. "Might as well see what You-Know-Who's bin up to in the world."

Rosmerta promised to return shortly and hurried down the stairs. She didn't want to read about the darkness of the times, but if it made Da happy, she'd pretend the stories didn't bring up bad memories. For the first time, she had some hope their broken relationship could be mended. That her father would forgive her for running away…just like her mother.

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After a long visit, Hagrid dropped his passenger off at the outskirts of the village. The young man had assured his friend that he wanted to walk off the unforgettable dinner. Proud of his cookery, the half-giant grinned and waved goodbye. Sirius marvelled over the magic that allowed the motorbike to expand to fit its rider. The sound of the engine revving into high gear made him chuckle. Once he was alone on the roadway, Sirius shifted into Animagus form and began to run.

His stomach rumbled as he drew near the kitchen entrance of the Broomsticks. He'd used a vanishing spell on his inedible stew at Hagrid's, and the smell of meat pie made him salivate. The back door opened. His ears perked to see the woman exiting. She held up a pie tin. "Any stray interested in leftover steak and kidney, come and get it."

He bounded toward her, halting when he saw the look of alarm on Rosmerta face. The huge black dog gave the woman his puppy-dog look and whimpered.

Her pretty features relaxed. "You startled me! I was expecting a lop-eared cat, not a small bear." Laughing a bit, she said, "I bet you find it hard to cadge a meal, looking so much like a Grim. Folks round here are superstitious." She placed the tin on the ground and backed away. "Lucky for you, Grimmy, I'm not."

He padded forward and began to eat. Gods it was good. The half of pie was wolfed down. He licked his chops afterwards, gazing up at her hopefully. She pointed to a basin beneath a spigot set against the house. "There's water. If you're still here in a minute, I'll give you the steak bone."

His tail wagged as he trotted over to lap some water. Back in second year, he'd happened to come across the interesting fact that in Latin, _Rosmertae_ meant 'the great provider.' Sirius had thought it matched well the Celtic attributes of fire, warmth, and abundance. When she returned and bent to extend the bone, he gave a woof in admiration of bountiful curves before taking it. She crouched down to pet him. He closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of her hands on his fur.

"I wonder if his hair would've felt as silken as yours."

Canine eyes snapped open. Ha! She'd been taken aback to learn he was younger, but that didn't keep her from thinking about him. _Of course my hair is equally silky,_ he thought, _there's just not so much of it, and none at all on my back!_

"I've got to reopen the pub. Goodnight, sweet doggie." She gave his head a final pat, picked up the pie tin, and walked away.

He gave a low whine, watching the sway of her hips. After the door shut, he exhaled heavily and turned to leave. Although he wanted to talk to Rosmerta again, it was better to back off and allow her time to remember how much she'd fancied him. Let the present replace the past image of him in the library. The next time he saw her, she'd be ready for him to work some 'Black Magic.' For now, Sirius would settle for Mrs. McFee's gingerbread to satisfy his craving for something sweet.

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_The Wild One_ is an old Marlon Brando film, and even this Yank can't understand half of what he says, lol. Mrs. McFee isn't _the _Mrs. McFee of story and film, but she does weave her own brand of magic in this fic. :D If readers have enjoyed the chemistry and the characterisations, and look forward to more, I'd love to 'hear' in a review. Encouragement and feedback is always appreciated! Extra special thanks to **cupcakeswirl **for beta-reading my chapters and encouraging me to write faster. :D


	2. Differences of Opinion

As much as I love my RLNT fics, this story stands alone and isn't a prequel. In the other stories, Sirius never loved anyone before Cami. There may be echoes and reflections, (The pairing of Dorcas and Remus, Sirius' charming, irreverant personality) but they're not the same. They cast unique shadows.

The idea of shadows reminded me of a fantasy series by Roger Zelazny called _Chronicles of Amber_. In the Chronicles, Amber is "an immortal city from which every other city has taken its shape", and every other world is a shadow of that 'reality'. To me, Jo's books are Amber, and readers are like Zelazny's Corwin and his son Merlin, travelling from the core reality to others on a quest. Corwin wanted to discover his past. I'm thankful for everyone who wants to discover fanfiction and visits my parallel world to read about Sirius and Rosmerta. I hope its a version of HP reality you'll come to love!

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Chapter 2- Differences of Opinion

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The kitchen was bright and homey; a sharp contrast to the one he had eaten most of his meals in growing up. Sitting with his legs stretched toward the small brick fireplace, Sirius patted his stomach contentedly. "You didn't have to feed me dinner as well as gingerbread, Mrs. McFee, but my stomach is grateful you did. What can I do to repay you?"

"Not a thing! Even without the satisfaction of feeding a hungry boy, the envy I'll inspire tomorrow night at the meeting of the Ladies Society would be payment enough."

He grinned at the old woman's gloating tone. "What House did you say you were in?"

Using her wand to levitate his plate to the sink, she smiled mysteriously. "I didn't. I refuse to be stereotyped, especially by impudent young rascals, so don't ask my age, either."

Standing, he nodded. "Good for you, Mrs. McFee, but there's got to be something needing done before I Floo home."

The witch set aside her knitting and pointed to a tall cupboard. "My nephew visited yesterday and thoughtlessly replaced the honey on the highest shelf. I would appreciate if you would bring the jar down."

Sirius did so, although he felt compelled to ask, "Why not use magic to do it?"

Deep-set eyes twinkled. "Hagrid said the honey was taken from a bee hive deep within the forbidden forest. If touched by magic, the honey will call the bees to reclaim the fruits of their labour."

He held up the jar. Sparkles of light glimmered within the pure, amber colour. Mischievous thoughts began to whirl- what he and the Marauders could do with this…

"Would you loosen the top as well? My nephew likes loose lids as much as loose vowels, which is not at all. I can never open something he's tightened."

Her family sounded almost as loving as his was. Sirius agreeably complied. He placed the jar on the table and was taken aback to find a large basket pressed into his hands. "Ah, no, you…"

"You will not argue with an old woman who conjures for enjoyment and loathes seeing food go to waste. So take it and return the basket when next you come to Hogsmeade. I'll have gutters to clean and leaves to be raked by then."

He smiled, feeling warmed by her kindness. Since he was emancipated from his 'real' family, perhaps he'd start adopting one of his own. James and Remus could be brothers, Peter the annoying cousin, and Mrs. McFee would make a brilliant Nan. When it came to imagining a girl to bring to 'family dinners', he immediately thought of Rosmerta. The vision of her with an adoring smile and low-cut blouse made him smile wickedly. Sirius said with a gallant bow. "I look forward to putting my friends to work for such a fine Hufflepuff lady."

"You won't catch me out that easily, and I'll find work for you as well."

"Testing sweets?" he asked hopefully.

"We'll see," she replied with a hint of a smile.

Sirius grinned over the thought of eating his way through a mound of sweets while his mates worked at less pleasant tasks. He was still smiling when he picked up a handful of floo powder and said, "The New and Ignoble House of Black!"

When he stepped onto the cold and grimy hearth of the dilapidated house near Knockturn Alley, his grin faded. He had a visitor, who demanded sternly, "Where have you been?"

The basket was lifted as Sirius rolled his eyes and replied, "Hogsmeade, _Dad_…why? Did I break curfew? Am I grounded to my room? Say yes- I'm tired, and it's the only one with furniture."

He watched James light the medieval torch whimsically placed above the simple fireplace. His friend's tone was grim. "I thought you agreed having a motorbike on the grounds wasn't a good idea."

With a shake of his head, Sirius reminded, "No, I merely listened in silence while you expounded on that subject at great length. If you took my nods to mean more than 'Yes, I hear what you say', then sorry to disappoint, mate."

"Damn it, Sirius!"

The sight of James raking his hair into a spiky mess prompted a change in tactics. "C'mon, Prongs, don't be narked. Hagrid made me promise to keep the bike a secret and I won't do any riding on the grounds. Trust me. I don't want to raise hell; I just want the motorbike there. It means more to me than a piece of machinery. It's a symbol of freedom."

Hazel eyes narrowed. "You are so full of shite."

Sirius smiled persuasively. "That doesn't mean I'm not sincere."

"Sincerely full of gobshite." James' mouth turned up in a reluctant smile. "What's in the basket?"

"Goodies from Mrs. McFee. How long you been waiting? Want some gingerbread?"

"Not long, but I could eat."

"Then shall we adjourn to the dining chamber or would you prefer to eat al fresco?" enquired Sirius. His haughty butler tone earned a laugh from the other boy. Good old James, he never stayed angry for long.

"Since you don't have a table or chairs in the house, let's go to the back garden. At least there's a bench to sit on."

Sirius waved his arm grandly to indicate his friend should lead the way. He asked, "Should we light the Tiki torches?"

"The ones your dodgy neighbour said he found in a skip?"

"Yes." Sirius handed over the basket and reached for a torch. He pushed the long end into the ground. "Mate, Dung isn't someone your parents would approve of, but he's got a knack for finding the most useful things."

On the bench, James' expression was doubtful. He opened a tin and took out a square of gingerbread, remarking, "Look, she's included bottles of pumpkin juice. I told Remus she liked you best, you lucky dog." After taking a big bite of cake, the boy said around a mouthful, "'s it s'pposed to spark like tha'?"

Sirius backed away from the Tiki torch just in time. It exploded into a shower of sparks that hurtled into the evening sky and burst into silver crackling stars. James said something he couldn't quite hear for the ringing in his ears. He hollered, "What?"

James rushed over. "Those aren't torches…they're disguised rockets!" Sirius gave a shout of laughter when his mate yelled, "Let's light off another one!"

-

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The Hogsmeade Community Centre was a low, stone building that served as Village Hall and meeting place for various social groups. On the night Rosmerta entered the double doors, the Ladies Society was milling about before settling down to hold their monthly meeting. At the back, a large group of women gathered around the tea table, fixing steaming cups to their individual tastes. Nearby, a smaller group picked over the sweets displayed. Other clusters of women, in two's and three's, talked in low, restrained tones around the rectangular chamber. It reminded the young woman observing of the library- especially when she saw the village librarian pouring a cup of tea from the enchanted urn.

Everyone she made eye contact with smiled. Several of the younger women greeted her with a wave or a casual hello, but no one came over to chat. In the Broomsticks, the same ladies would sit on a stool and natter on, but outside the pub, her 'scandalous' reputation apparently made her friendly acquaintances leery of associating too closely.

"So glad you could make it, dear."

Rosmerta turned to the woman who had once awed her by saying her great-grandmother had been _the _inspiration behind the Muggle tale of Hansel and Gretel. She said dryly, "Nothing could stop me…once you told me anyone who doesn't show is food for gossip."

Mrs. McFee folded her hands together primly, but her eyes gleamed with humour. "We have the highest attendance rate of any club in the village."

"I'm sure you do."

Over at the sweets table, a stout, ruddy-faced witch demanded loudly, "What? No gingerbread?" Turning, she called over the low hum of voices, "What is the meaning of this?"

Rosmerta had been looking forward to a bite of the renowned cake too, but this reaction seemed extreme. Across the chamber, conversations hushed as women stared in anticipation. Mrs. McFee's lips curved. Calmly, she informed, "I donated it to a worthy cause, Mrs. Wilton-Smythe."

"What worthy cause?"

"A hungry young man."

A swell of whispers piqued Rosmerta's curiosity. Why were these women so aflutter over the kindness done a boy? Mrs. Finch, a small woman with a beak of a nose, asked, "What young man?"

"Sirius Black."

The murmured whispers became a muted roar. The young woman listening had felt a jolt hearing the name, but she was shocked at some of the other ladies' comments.

"_It must've been when he roared through the village on that wicked Muggle contraption."_

"_It's not the motorbike that's wicked, it's his smile."_

"_And his devilish good looks."_

Weren't these women supposed to be fine, upstanding pillars of the community? They sounded more like schoolgirls! The one who had noticed his smile, a witch in her thirties whose skirt was shorter than her hair, said, "I'm a lonely widow too. Why doesn't the lovely boy ever come see me?"

Cackles filled the air. Rosmerta was not amused, and muttered, "Lonely widow my arse. Black Widow is more like it, and a perv to boot."

"He is of legal age, dear, even if unlikely to be attracted by Mrs. Quickly's obvious charms."

Although embarrassed to be overheard, she was also relieved to have Sirius' age confirmed. It made _her_ feel less pervy. Rosmerta smiled at Mrs. McFee and asked, "Should we go find a seat?"

"By all means," the sprightly witch said with a sly smile. "Only a few of the folding chairs have comfort charms on them."

-

Trying not to fidget, Rosmerta listened to the Chair of the Ladies Society stress the importance of early planning and thought, _Fat lot of good that did me. All my youthful plans to get out of Hogsmeade and here I am at 21, back where I started._

Mrs. Raisin, a formidable woman in both the breadth of her shoulders and forceful manner, continued, "Our refreshment booth is one of the premier attractions of the Fire Festival, and if enough of us sign up in advance, October won't find our tables overloaded with ginger newts again."

"Nowt was said to me about somebody else baking newts," one woman grumbled in a carrying tone.

"Did you wish to address the group, Mrs. Bouquet?" asked Mrs. Raisin.

Rosmerta heard a chair scrape as the woman behind her stood to announce, "In order to prevent another distressing occurrence, I want everyone to know I shall be contributing iced fairy cakes this year."

"But I make the iced fairy cakes each year!" declared another lady.

"Then it's about time you made something else, Elizabeth," the woman behind Rosmerta shot back.

Shocked gasps echoed throughout the chamber. At the podium, Mrs. Raisin said, "Emotionality is no cause for informality. Please address your fellow society members properly, Madam."

"Quite right," agreed Mrs. Bouquet, before asserting, "Find another recipe, Mrs. McGavin, because the fairy cakes are mine, now."

"Oh, no, they're not!"

The uproar that followed made the rest of the boring meeting worthwhile. Rosmerta was still smiling over it when she walked Mrs. McFee home.

"They're not always like that," the old woman said, as they approached her cottage. Patting the youngest member of the Ladies Society on the arm, she winked. "Sometimes they hex, too."

Rosmerta laughed and said goodnight, thinking as she headed toward home that age didn't matter when it came to friendship. Mrs. McFee was a kindred spirit. Immediately, a young man's handsome face came to mind. She'd felt a similar rapport with Sirius, but was resolved not to encourage him. He wasn't interested in just being friends.

_Are you?_

Cheeky inner voices were not what she needed right now.

_Too bad you can't have what you've needed for ages. I bet scrummy Sirius would love to give it to you._

Irritably thrusting open the back door to enter the kitchen, Rosmerta fixed a mug of tea and carried it with her into the pub area. She had done a flick and swish on the place earlier, but deep-cleaning spells were mandatory before she could turn in for the night. As she lifted her wand to propel an enchanted mop into motion, her eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

_I bet he does a kiss and cuddle better than any man around._

"I bet." The sound of her voice jarred Rosmerta out of the reverie she'd fallen into. It was far too easy to imagine snogging a sexy young man who was exactly that. Young…too young for her to think about doing anything other than brushing him off with a smile, just like she would any other cocky schoolboy.

She carried out the rest of the tidying in record time. If she didn't whistle while she worked, and a few of the clean tankards were replaced on their shelves with heavy thuds, at least annoying inner voices had the decency not to remark on it.

"Ros, is that you?"

A projection charm carried her Da's voice down the stairs, making her cares melt away. He hadn't called her 'Ros' in such a long time. Work finished for the night, Rosmerta picked up a glass and a bottle of her Dad's favourite whisky and went upstairs to tell him about the Ladies Society meeting. Maybe he'd do something else he hadn't done in a long time. Laugh.

-

* * *

- 

The train ride seemed to drag on forever. Sirius tried to keep his mind off the woman who made him look forward to Hogsmeade Weekend like never before, but it was impossible.

"Padfoot, is the view really that riveting, or do you have something on your mind?"

Sirius turned away from the window. He slouched down in his seat and replied, "This is one of the final times I'll be aboard the Hogwarts Express. Perhaps I'm taking a last, nostalgic look at the scenery, Moony, old man."

"There's still Christmas and Easter holidays," reminded Peter, not taking his eyes from the chessboard suspended mid-air. Sirius rolled his eyes when Remus said 'checkmate' and added gently, "He was being facetious, Wormtail."

Prominent front teeth worrying his lower lip, the pudgiest boy in Gryffindor house repeated anxiously, "Facetious, Paddy? Were you really?"

Sirius exhaled sharply. "You don't have to be an Irishman to consider 'Paddy' an insult, worm-brain, so don't say it again, and yes, I was indeed being tongue-in-cheek."

"_Oh! _Right, sorry, erm…better go visit the lav after all that pumpkin juice…" Beady eyes darted from one friend to another as the boy stood and said, "Play again when I get back, Remus?"

"Sure, Peter."

The moment the compartment door slid shut, Sirius propped his feet up on the opposite bench and sighed. "Remind me again _why _we brought that gormless wonder into our merry band."

Lean features girls called 'gentlemanly' creased in a smile as Remus gave the standard response. "I knew what it was like to feel alone and excluded, James enjoys Peter's fawning admiration and you like having a devoted follower who has occasional bursts of cunning."

Sirius grinned. "I knew it wasn't his sparkling wit. How many matches has he lost today?"

"I refuse to count, since the important thing is Peter keeps trying to improve."

"What a stellar teacher you'll make one day. _Professor Lupin_...has a ring to it."

The other boy's smile was wry. "Do you really think the Ministry would allow a werewolf to teach Defence Against Dark Arts?"

"Who gives a toss about the Ministry? Dumbledore would!"

"We'll see."

Impatient with his mate's fatalistic attitude, Sirius looked for something to tease him about. Finding it, he smirked. "I see a few strands of gray in that shaggy brown hair. You really are an old man now, Moony."

Remus chuckled. "Better premature gray than male patterned baldness, don't you agree?"

"Hell, yes, look at Filch."

"I'd rather not."

They were still snickering when Peter returned, chocolate frogs attempting to jump out of their cellophane packages within his pockets. Sirius took one of the sweets. He bit off a leg and asked, "Where'd you come by these, mate?" From the wide smile on Wormtail's face, it was hard to tell if he was more pleased over finding the sweets or being called 'mate'. Slightly discomfited by his earlier behaviour, Sirius decided he would make more of an effort not to take his moods out on the hapless boy.

"I heard the Trolley Witch griping to a porter that they'd stocked too many, so I offered to buy a box at tenth of the price. Now we'll have frogs to last until the first Hogsmeade Weekend!"

"Well done, Peter!" Sirius clapped the boy on the shoulder and then snatched up a frog that had escaped to the floor.

On the other bench, Remus frowned. "Wasn't that taking advantage of another's misfortune?"

"Erm…uh…"

Peter's stammering prompted Sirius to come to his defence. "No, mate, everybody knows they overprice, and it's not like she's going to lose her job 'cause she didn't make as much profit this trip."

Remus looked ready to begin a tiresome discussion about ethics when James entered the compartment. Catching sight of all the chocolate frogs, the Head Boy laughed and eagerly reached for one that was trying to hop out of Peter's pocket.

After swallowing the chocolate in two bites, he accepted another from Peter, complaining, "I didn't get tea with all the firsties crying and carrying on this trip. They have to be the sorriest lot ever. We sure as blazes didn't need anyone to find us a compartment or keep bullies from picking on us when we were their age!"

Sirius puckered his lips and imitated his less-than-beloved mother, "The youth of today!"

His mates laughed. Peter stood and offered to go raid what remained of the Trolley Witch's cart. Remus opened his mouth, likely to scold, and then closed it, shrugging. Sirius interrupted James' enumerating the food items he'd most like to consume by saying, "And bring us all a round of pumpkin juice while you're at it, old chum."

After Wormtail scurried off, James took the seat beside Remus. He tried to put on a front of nonchalance, but it was a feeble effort at best. Sirius put a palm to his forehead, closed his eyes while holding up the other hand, and intoned, "The spirits are showing me an image of Evans speaking politely to you…no, she gave permission for you to use her first name…and…what's this? She smiled, and it wasn't gas…OW!" Sirius rubbed the hand that had received a Stinging Hex, grinning unrepentantly.

James attempted to sound stern, "Serves you right for making fun of me and my tender feelings." After trying to glare, he broke down and laughed. "You sounded just like Professor Edwards channelling the spirits who've crossed over."

Remus asked, "Were any of the _visions _true?"

James grinned like a fool. "All three."

Before Sirius could jokingly ask how James knew for sure it wasn't gas, the compartment door was thrust open. Peter stumbled inside, throwing the goodies in his arms onto a seat and scrambling to shut the glass once more. When furious shouting was heard in the corridor, the red-faced boy stumbled back to fall on the floor, gasping, "I think we're in trouble."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: I don't write crossovers, but I do like to put names and bits of quotes that make me smile into fics. So yes, Nanny McFee fans; Mrs. Quickly's name caught my fancy, as did the absurdity of 'loose vowels'. And if any of the names of the Ladies Society members sounded familiar, may I remind everyone that Mrs. Bouquet's name is not pronounced 'Bucket', lol, although she is very concerned with _Keeping Up Appearances. _The readers who caught my fancy with their reviews last chap were…♥ **40/16 **♥** AAMLrox **♥** Cat **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **dragonrider HP **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawon **♥** FNP **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **Hebi R.**♥ **honeymuffins**♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** k8ebug **♥** Kara Adar **♥ **Libeku Taganashi **♥** Liserl **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥ **Molly Coddles **♥** NalaravatheRed **♥ **Newbie GK **♥ **petiteloupegarou **♥**purebristles**♥ **RahNee**♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **sophianwin **♥ **sunny9847 **♥** Verity Weasley **♥ and ♥ **waterdreamer **♥


	3. We Meet Again

Chapter 3- We Meet Again

-

"He thinks we're in trouble," Sirius repeated laughingly.

"_We?"_ said James. "I don't recall running from blokes trying to hex me."

"But…but we're all for one and one for all," whined Peter.

"You're getting Marauders confused with Musketeers," Sirius quipped.

Remus smiled and then reminded, "Weren't you the one referring to us as Merry Men, Padfoot?"

"Who's Robin Hood, then?" asked James with a grin. "Moony, you're holy enough to be Friar Tuck, and Wormtail's Little John, in weight at least, but who's the Prince of Thieves?"

"Do I have a feisty Maid Marian? No. That makes me the dashing Will Scarlet and you the responsible Robin," said Sirius, doffing an imaginary hat.

"If only you lot would obey me half as well as his men." Putting on his cloak, James patted the Head Boy badge and told Peter, "Let me handle this."

The other boy scooted back. "Those Slytherin might try and say they made a deal first, but they didn't pay, so the Trolley Witch had every right to sell to me."

Nodding, James opened the door with a snap. "What's the problem here?"

Four irate third-year Slytherins began talking at once. After they'd demanded an apology and a return of the purloined food, James looked down his nose and drawled, "Did you pay the Trolley Witch?"

An authoritative, feminine voice replied, "No, but she agreed to sell them the items, and so had no right to give them to someone else."

Inside the compartment, Sirius blew out a noisy breath. The Head Girl, not content with roaming the other end of the train enforcing her ideals of fairness, had apparently decided the whole Express would benefit from her saintly rule. Since his mate was now reduced to staring and stammering, he nudged James aside to say, "Sounds like you need to save your scold for the one who deserves it."

"I have already stated my disappointment with her business practices, Black, but as this is a student concern…"

"I'm very concerned," he interjected, before she could warm up into a ladylike rant. "I find it hard to believe that you want these blokes, who ordered without the ready, to take what poor Peter spent hard earned sickles on in good faith."

The redhead's temper began to show. "That's not what happened!"

"What did the Trolley Witch say?" asked James.

Evans looked uncomfortable. "Her story matched Pettigrew's, but these boys told me differently."

"_Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends_," James quoted from the Sorting Hat's song and said, "These boys need to learn to pay when they order. You don't get a drink at the Broomsticks without paying the shot, and you don't get food on tab on the Express either."

Unable to resist, Sirius tossed each of the Slytherins a chocolate frog. "No hard feelings." For some odd reason, the boys took his tone as mocking and stomped back to their carriage. He snorted in amusement. They took the frogs, though, the little snakes.

The Head Girl stared at her counterpart in frustration. "Pettigrew good as stole that food from those boys and I hope you choke on it."

"Lily!"

She stormed off, tossing over her shoulder, "Forget what I said earlier. I don't want you calling me by my first name anymore!"

James looked gutted. Sirius, indignant on his friend's behalf, leaned into the corridor to shout, "Then don't call him by his first name either!"

His mate didn't look appreciative of the support. James took the place across from Remus at the window. Hunched shoulders and a set jaw gave away mood before the boy snapped, "Who asked you to butt in?"

Sirius tried to joke, "You never have to ask, that's what mates are for."

"Well, don't do me any more favours, alright?"

Sirius never claimed to be the slow-to-anger sort. He jabbed his finger toward the food piled on the seat. "Peter wasn't hungry, but he got that for you, and outsmarted Slytherins to do it. I take up for you when you stand there catching flies, and you don't want any more favours?" Picking up a sandwich, he threw it at the ingrate. "Fine, lie down and let Evans walk over you like a rug, but don't come crying when she takes you out and beats you!"

Made nervous by the escalating hostility, Peter stuttered, "I…I kn..know a cleaning charm for rugs if you get dirty, so you won't need a beating."

Remus 'coughed' behind the hand held over his mouth. James looked ruefully at his friends. "Thanks…wouldn't want my knickers to get dingy gray like Snape's."

Sitting on the bench, Sirius picked up a bottle of pumpkin juice and held it out. "I'll drink to that."

"Me too," Peter said eagerly.

Remus put his palms together and bowed. "Let us give thanks, children, for harmony restored."

Lifting his bottle, Sirius looked across at Peter and said, "The honours go to Wormtail, for out-slithering Slytherins. Huzzah!"

Moony sighed and then smiled. His bottle made a clinking sound as he seconded, "Huzzah!"

Prongs gave the third cheer. "Huzzah!"

Pink-faced and smiling ear to ear, Peter touched his bottle to the others' and said, "Thanks, mates. Want to hear how I did it?"

"_No," _said James and Remus in unison. Sirius rolled his eyes. "Switch places, Friar Moony. You can counsel our lovesick Robin on how to woo Marian, and Little John can tell me how he strong-armed the snakes away from the food."

"Excellent idea, my son."

After seats were exchanged, the four conversed quietly until it was time to change into school uniforms. Peter fastened his robes, grumbling, "Why do you three look so much better in uniform?"

"They may look better, but I'm the one whose god-like body transforms plain fabric into art," said Sirius.

"His head is as hard as a Greek statute's too," murmured Remus.

"Harder," insisted James. "Remember when he crashed into the wall outrunning the Slytherin Quidditch team last term? There's still an indentation the exact size of his head."

"And girls place flowers on the stones beneath, and sigh over its beauty."

His mates broke into laughter at Sirius' droll tone. They laughed harder when Peter said, "_Really?"_

Once the Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, the Head Boy couldn't leave with his common friends. He had important work to do, making sure everyone exited in a calm and orderly fashion. Sirius shook his head pityingly and followed Peter and Remus to the carriages.

"Let's ride in this one."

Moony was directing them to a carriage at the end of the line…interesting. Climbing inside, he saw what had attracted his friend. Three of Lily Evan's roommates were seated within. Smiling politely at Dorcas, Felicity, and Jane, he idly wondered which one had caught Remus' eye- auburn haired Dorcas, brunette Felicity, or the blonde, Jane.

"Hello, Remus, did you have a good holiday?" asked Dorcas Meadowes with a shy smile.

"Yes, thank you. I read that book you recommended. It was excellent."

"Oh, well, defensive spells are very useful. I'm glad you liked the book."

Sirius elbowed his friend. Remus got the hint and asked, "How was your summer, Dorcas?"

"Lovely."

"Good."

_Good grief!_ Sirius thought, _Moony is almost as bad as Prongs when it comes to talking to birds. If I thought it would do any good, I'd tell them how to go about it, but I think it would be better if I led by example…_

He let his gaze wander over the other girls. Felicity Bingley was prettier, but Jane Weston's blonde hair reminded Sirius of Rosmerta's, even though it wasn't as golden, or silky-looking, and was straight instead of tumbling in curls. Deciding to sharpen his 'Black Magic' skills for the benefit of many, he smiled at the girl and drawled, "Hello, Jane…"

-

* * *

- 

It was all Hagrid's fault. If he hadn't dropped by the Broomsticks the previous evening and offered to load the casks of ale onto her cart, she would've paid extra and taken delivery of the goods long before the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. Instead, Rosmerta had to show up just before, when the groundskeeper arrived in preparation of welcoming the first years. The whole time, she'd looked at her timepiece nervously and resisted the urge to tell the half-giant to hurry. Thankfully, he'd completed the job before the distinctive whistle had been heard in the distance. Giving the kindly man a grateful smile and a promise to deliver a pitcher of ale to his table the next time he wandered into the Broomsticks, she'd clucked to her horse and started the trip back to the village.

She didn't get far. Just as the cart rolled by the sign that indicated the castle was one way and the village another, a wheel broke. If being stuck beside the crossroads wasn't bad enough luck, one of the casks rolled off the cart, across the road, down a steep bank and into a small pond. Rosmerta patted her cloak and discovered she'd left her wand at home. She almost cried in frustration. She'd never mastered wandless magic. Yet another reason leaving school had been a mistake.

The sound of Thestrals approaching impelled her to remove her cloak and cover her horse's eyes before darting across the road. Blackie would bolt if he saw coaches pulled by invisible creatures that smelt faintly of blood. She lay flat on the embankment and smiled in wry amusement. Denims and trainers were hardly professional attire, but they sure were practical. Rosmerta peeked over the edge of the slope. Eerily beautiful creatures with dragon-like heads and black, skeletal frames pulled student carriages into view. White eyes turned to survey her curiously. She almost raised her hand and waved. Leathery wings flapped before the fanged creatures moved out of sight.

Rosmerta ducked down again to avoid being seen and clambered down the bank to wade into the water. Slowly, she pushed the cask out of the pond and up the embankment, muttering beneath her breath. Why the manufacturer didn't put a feather-weight spell as well as a floatation charm on the ruddy thing was beyond her. Trying to cut costs, most likely, the cheap bastards...

Near the top, she'd almost succeeded in shoving the barrel onto level, drier soil, when the muddy ground beneath her feet gave way. She dove to the side to avoid being knocked down by the cask, rolling over in time to watch the ale hit the water. She began to curse.

"May I be of assistance?"

Rosmerta closed her eyes. If she refused to answer, surely he'd go away.

He didn't. Instead, the sucking noise of mud glomming onto shoes sounded. "I heard the…cries of distress…and thought I'd lend a hand."

Resigned to the coming humiliation, the woman opened her eyes and looked up into the sinfully appealing face of Sirius Black. He was crouched beside her, grinning. She said, "At least there were no first years to hear and be corrupted."

"I heard second years in the carriage ahead of ours giggling."

Rosmerta reluctantly put her grimy hand into his clean one. He pulled her up to stand beside him. Made nervous by his intent regard, she said, "Your friends will be waiting."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Still…"

"I sent the carriage on," he said with a smile. "We were the last one and I didn't want to hold them back." He continued smiling in a way that made her uneasy.

"What's so funny?"

"I'll tell you after we retrieve the errant cask." Using his wand to levitate, Sirius asked, "What's in it?"

"Does it make a difference?"

_Oooh, flirtatious…_

Rosmerta told her inner voice to shut it. She hid a smile when he said, "Yes. I'd hate for you to go through all this trouble for cheap beer."

She kept her gaze on the rising cask in order not to stare at his compelling features. "Its Green Dragon Ale."

He cupped her elbow to help her up the slope. "Well, that's worth it, then."

"So glad you approve," she said dryly.

"I approve of a lot of things," he murmured suggestively.

She tried to ignore him. It was impossible. Sirius loaded the cask back onto the cart but didn't know a spell to fix the wheel. She did, but it was complicated, and easier to demonstrate than to tell. He refused to hand over his wand.

"Sorry, it's much too valuable to risk damage."

He was smirking, likely remembering one of many 'wand jokes' he and his mates had snickered over in the past. Rosmerta said matter-of-factly, "Then I'll just have to take you in hand and show how it's done."

The impudently grin slid right off his face. She thought his uncertainty made him look even more attractive. Secretly amused, she clasped his hand and led his wand through an intricate pattern of loops. _"Sarcire!"_

"That's a handy spell."

She nodded. "The cask is back on the cart, so before I take you back to the station, tell me what you were grinning about earlier."

"It'll be faster for me to walk to the lake and catch a boat across."

"Alright, then tell me so I can thank you for your assistance and go."

He appeared on the edge of laughter. "I'd prefer you thank me first. You might not want to afterwards."

"Fine. Thank you very much for your kind assistance, Mr. Black."

"Sirius."

He really was too charming for his own good. Since no one else was around, she decided to humour him.

_It's not like you don't think of him that way already…_

Pushing wet, matted hair out of her face, she said, "Thank you, Sirius."

His smile reminded her of the angelic-looking boy he'd once been. "You're very welcome, Rosmerta. The pleasure was mine."

She stared in consternation when he turned and began to walk away. "Hey! You didn't tell me what was so funny!"

He stopped but didn't turn around. "You don't want to know."

Unable to believe he was walking off again, she called, "Yes, I do!"

When he turned, even from a distance she could see his roguish smile. "At the Hog's Head, I once overheard two warlocks talking about witches who mud wrestle. I didn't see the attraction…_then…" _

Rosmerta didn't want to, but her eyes automatically looked down to see the tee plastered to her upper body. Water and mud coated her from the chest down. The support charm that made the shirt so popular did nothing to prevent the fabric from becoming see-through. She gasped and rushed to pluck her cloak off the horse. Her cheeks burned the entire ride home.

-

* * *

- 

The boat floated slowly across Hogwarts Lake to the castle that seemed to rise up out of the water on the other side. Sirius spent the time performing several cleaning spells to remove the traces of mud and water from his shoes and clothing. He chuckled, thinking of the way Rosmerta had stared down and then bolted to grab her cloak. Too little, too late, that was. He'd already seen it all…or virtually all. And what a lovely sight it had been.

The 'view' from the top of the bank had been what compelled him to wave the carriage on. Remus, the knightly soul, had been half-way out of the carriage and asking if he could help when Sirius called back, "It's just a cask that needs levitating out of the water. Go on, I'll be along soon!"

He'd almost laughed out loud to see Rosmerta scrunching her eyes closed. She didn't act like the scarlet woman villagers had gossiped about for years. He felt a rush of sympathy. She was only a few years older than him, and yet ran the pub and took care of an invalid father. His lips curved. He'd be happy to put the fun back into her life.

The boat bumped against the steps leading up to the castle. He climbed out and quickly headed for the massive torch-lit door. As he approached the entry from a side corridor, Sirius could hear clapping and cheers as the Sorting Hat placed each firstie into a house.

"In my day, lack of punctuality received the direst of penalties," said a ghost in Elizabethan clothing.

"Delightful to see you too, Nick. How about you be a mate and pop your head in, see if the coast is clear," replied Sirius in his most persuasive tone.

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington pulled back his ruff to expose his nearly severed head. "I was late to Elizabeth's court…_once…"_

"Good one!" approved Sirius. "Far more sinister than last term's explanation."

The spectre floated toward the double doors, frowning. "My codpiece clashed with my doublet…once…was not frightening?"

"Oh it was frightening, just not in the way you meant."

"HaHa! A jest! Very good, Sirrah! I shall return forthwith."

Sirius laughed softly. He hadn't been jesting, but poor Nearly Headless Nick was already given to fits of depression over not being qualified to join the Headless Hunt. He didn't want to give the Gryffindor ghost another reason to mope about the castle.

"Get thee to a bench, Mr. Black!"

He smiled his thanks to the head suspended through a door and slowly entered the grand chamber. No one was looking. Sirius quickly took his seat between James and Remus.

"Were you really playing Good Samaritan?" asked James in a low voice.

Sirius waited until the clapping for a new Ravenclaw died down before answering, "I was."

"Who needed help?"

Turning his gaze to Remus, he shrugged. "A villager."

Across the table, Peter began sniggering. "I saw that cart beside the road filled with casks. I bet you were helping the barman at the Hog's Head, hoping to cadge a…RUDDY 'ELL, why'd you kick me, Sirius?"

He gave the worm-brain a warning stare. "You know students aren't _allowed_ to drink alcohol, Peter."

A look of comprehension and relief crossed the chubby features. "Oh, _right…_no drinking by students, any time."

At the head table, Dumbledore started to give his beginning-of-term speech. James said, "No going into the Forbidden Forest, either."

Remus chuckled, while across from them, Peter brayed with laughter. Heads turned. One belonged to a redhead who shot them a disapproving glance. Another was Evans' blonde friend, who smiled expectantly. The corners of Sirius' mouth twitched in a polite smile before he turned away. A few minutes' chat didn't mean he was interested, although Weston obviously hoped he was. Used to silly girls taking casual conversation and imagining it the start of a grand passion, he took the usual evasive action. Sirius pretended not to be aware of the hopeful staring.

During the Feast, he gnawed a turkey leg with gusto. Beside him, Remus said, "What's wrong with Jane that you're trying to give her the brush off?"

"Besides the fact that she giggles inanely and stares without blinking? Nothing, really, except that she's not well-endowed…with personality."

Peter burst into laughter. "Well-endowed…with p…personality!"

James shook his head in mock-reproach. "You are such a dog."

The friends snickered over the pun. Sirius gave a deliberately careless shrug. "I just know what I want and refuse to settle for less."

He was unsurprised to see his best mate's gaze flicker to Evans. James' voice rang with conviction when he said, "Me, too."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Can't blame a boy for not wanting to settle for second best. :D Anyone wondering if I mixed and matched Austen names for Lily's roommates, yes, I did. There will be no Mr. Darcy, although I make no promises about keeping Sirius dry, lol. The fabulous readers who made me smile with their reviews last week were...…♥ **40/16 **♥** AAMLrox **♥** alix33 **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **distempered **♥** dragonrider HP **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawon **♥** FemmeDraconis**♥** FNP **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **honeymuffins **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥ **Libeku Taganashi**♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** NalaravatheRed **♥ **NazgulGirl **♥** Newbie GK **♥ **potteronpotluvhim **♥ **RahNee **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **sunny9847 **♥** tiedye**♥** Verity Weasley **♥and♥ **WriterMerrin **♥


	4. Life's Little Jokes

Chapter 4- Life's Little Jokes

-

_Sirius entered the pub and walked straight to the bar. Customers tried to get Rosmerta's attention, but she only had eyes for him. When he leaned against the polished counter and asked for a butterbeer, chilled, not warmed, she smiled. Along with the tankard, a scrap of parchment was slipped into his hand. He winked and turned away, strolling toward his waiting friends. Seated across from James, he listened to Peter complain that a Slytherin snitched the last acid pop at Honeydukes with half an ear while he covertly read the note._

_**I'm taking a break in 5 minutes. Come round the back.**_

_A wheedling voice penetrated his thoughts. "Don't be angry, Prongs. I…I thought you'd think it was funny, like Padfoot. See, he's smiling."_

_Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So Peter followed the Slytherin out of Honeydukes and hexed him for nicking his sweet. It wasn't the first time. He said reasonably, "Can't blame him the sneaky little rat for doing what comes naturally."_

"_Sometimes you have to control so-called natural urges," said Moony. _

_Throwing up his hands, Sirius declared, "I have a natural urge I can't control, and as the line to the Gents is out the door, I'm going out the door as well. Order me a sandwich while I'm gone!"_

_His friends heckled him on the way out, making him chuckle as he headed around the back of the Broomsticks. He was reaching for the handle when the kitchen door opened. _

"_Hurry, I don't have much time."_

_Grinning as she pulled him inside and then backed him against the door, Sirius kissed Rosmerta and then teased, "And I thought you were going to try and give me the brush off."_

"_I was. I fought not to want you so badly." She did things to his lower lip that made his head spin. "I lost."_

_The next kiss was deep and wet. When the help called back that she couldn't handle the crowd alone anymore, he growled, "Let them wait."_

_-_

"Let them wait, damn it!" Sirius repeated, when his shoulder was shaken.

Bursts of laughter brought him fully awake. He cracked open his eyes to see James standing by the bed, holding a beaker of coffee. Raking back his hair, Sirius sat up and took the mug, muttering, "Best bloody dream I've had in ages and you lot go and ruin it. Thanks…did you put salt in my coffee too?"

"No, just sugar," said Peter, who moved forward to offer a piece of toast. "And butter, no jam, just the way you like it."

James snorted. "Wormtail stole that from Moony, so you'd best appreciate it."

Sirius looked toward Remus and said around a mouthful of toast, "I'll appreciate the generous Professor Lupin even more if he saved me a rasher of bacon."

"Stop calling me professor." Rising from his chair, the boy tossed a rolled up serviette onto the bed.

Un-wrapping the bacon, Sirius said incorrigibly, "I'll call you Friar Moony, if your holiness would prefer."

"Stuff it."

"Okay." He obediently crammed all the bacon into his mouth.

Peter grimaced at the sight of him chewing. James said, "I should give you detention for being a disgusting prat."

When Sirius began to talk, Remus held up a hand. "Silence is golden, my son." He smiled. "Best get a move on. Transfiguration starts in twenty minutes."

Gulping coffee, Sirius plunked down the mug, threw off the covers, and ran for the lavatory. Behind him, Peter asked, "D'you think a Frenchwoman gave him those knickers?"

The boy in question pretended not to hear, shutting the door on his mates' speculations. He slipped off the black designer underwear, smirking. Wormtail had been dead on, and Sirius would always remember that weekend on the Riviera fondly. The blonde's name had started with an F, he was almost sure…

Fifteen minutes later, Sirius was finger-combing his hair and on the way to class. McGonagall was the one professor he never pressed his luck with. Slughorn would let him slide into class tardy, but the Head of Gryffindor house was as strict about punctuality as she was about posture.

"Oh gods, we're not going to make it. We're doomed. We...are...doomed!"

"Peter, shut up and run!" ordered James.

Sirius jogged down the corridor, silently laughing over the Head Boy encouraging students to break the rules. His mate was still a Marauder at heart. They filed into the classroom with a minute to spare. Remus and Peter took the table left empty at the front of the classroom, while he and James slid onto the bench at the back. Exactly upon the hour, the classroom door slammed shut. A few students who had been holding whispered conversations jumped at the sound.

At the front of the chamber, the professor adjusted her witch's hat and curved her lips in a restrained smile. "Welcome back to your seventh and most challenging year of Transfiguration. If N.E.W.T.s do not weigh heavily upon your minds…" Her sharp gaze flickered over the students and focused on the back of the classroom. Thin lips pursed. "They should. The exams will direct the course of your futures." Her eyes narrowed. "I expect each and every one of my students to apply themselves to reaching their full potential."

She didn't have to say "or else". It was implied in her tone and gimlet stare. Sirius looked around, idly wondering who she was subtly threatening. The professor shook her head and pointed to a cage at the back of the room. "Your first assignment will be to transform a mouse into a snuffbox."

"But we learnt that Transforming Spell first year," several voices cried.

The professor's smile reminded Sirius of his mother, in a good way. "Nonverbal."

He grinned and saw an answering gleam in cat-like eyes before McGonagall began to answer individual questions. She was tough and challenged him more than all the rest of his teachers combined. No wonder she was his favourite.

"This is my worst subject. If I didn't need it to become an Auror, I'd have chucked it after fifth year," grumbled James.

Sirius laughed shortly. "What's that mean, you get an E instead of an O? What's wrong with Exceeding Expectations?"

"Some people prefer to be Outstanding."

Jerking his head toward the girl walking toward them, Sirius said, "She thinks you're an outstanding git. Does that count?"

James stared at Evans like a forlorn puppy. She bit her lip when she met his eyes, but didn't show any sign of relenting her 'don't call me Lily' stance. Heaving an exasperated sigh, Sirius tugged his mate to his feet. Edging out another pair to stand behind the stubborn redhead and one of her giggly friends, he waited until she got to the head of the queue and silently chanted a _Timere_ spell. The docile white mouse Evans picked up became suddenly overwhelmed by fear and ran up her arm to hide in her hair.

"Oh! Oh! Get it off me!"

As Sirius had anticipated, James immediately reached out and sifted his fingers through the girl's hair to release the creature, which bit him for his trouble.

"You're bleeding, give me your hand," ordered Evans, once the now-calmed rodent had been returned to the cage. She examined the puncture wound. "This isn't bad, I know a healing spell…" her brisk speech trailed off when she looked up and saw the way James was eating her up with his eyes. Blushing, she murmured the charm and then snapped, "You probably brought it on yourself by looming over me and frightening the poor thing!"

Picking out another mouse, she tried to flounce off, only to find Sirius blocking her way. He said, "You might want to pick the droppings out of your hair."

Once he and James got their mice and returned to their seats, his friend leaned close to say, "I didn't see any mouse droppings."

Sirius followed the other boy's gaze to where Lily Evans wasted valuable class time frantically shaking her hair and smiled.

-

* * *

- 

Mondays had been manic in London, but in Hogsmeade, they drifted by at tortoise pace. Rosmerta enjoyed having a lie in and the opportunity to do the marketing and inventory without feeling rushed, but by the afternoon felt restless. Work kept her mind from wandering in troubling directions. Without it, she felt adrift, and on edge. Needing a distraction from daydreams of a motorbike ride for two, she decided to drop by the bookshop.

She'd meant to visit _Buy the Book_ before now, but had been too busy familiarising herself with Dad's account books and schedule and suppliers. Located next to the dress shop, the bookstore had been run by a grumpy, ex-librarian sort when she'd been in school. Rosmerta wondered what the new owner was like.

A bell jangled when she opened the door. Rosmerta entered and saw that the interior had been renovated. It was now brightly coloured and well lit, with a Wizarding radio station providing upbeat music in the background. The smell of coffee brought her attention to the left hand of the shop. She was shocked to see it had been remodelled into a tiny café. Such a thing was common in Muggle cities, but in clinging-to-Victorian-era Hogsmeade?

"I sell more biscuits than books, not that I don't make a damn fine chocolate chip biscuit," said the woman sitting behind a counter. The brunette marked her place and closed the book. She asked with a smile, "Read any good books lately?"

"No."

"Brilliant! I've got loads. Buy one."

"Okay."

When the witch hopped off the stool, Rosmerta saw that she was tall, with short hair and a thin, clever-looking face. Somewhere in her mid-twenties, the witch had a wide, friendly smile. "Hullo. I'm Fiona, the proprietor, clerk, and server. You are?"

"Rosmerta."

Dark green eyes widened. "_The _Rosmerta?"

"I'm not a Celtic goddess, but if you meant the woman who's running the Broomsticks, that's me."

Grinning, Fiona grabbed her hand and then shook it firmly. "I may belong to the Ladies Society, but I don't listen to gossip."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did; it's more interesting than talk of food stalls."

"Well, I might have heard you ran off sixth year, but now you're back to help your father."

Rosmerta shrugged. "That's true."

"They also claim you can have any man you want, so they're keeping a close watch on their husbands." With a laugh, Fiona said, "My husband's not among the living, so I'm just pleased to meet someone who wants to buy a book."

Not sure how to respond, Rosmerta said, "I'm sorry."

"For my lack of business or lack of husband?" Smiling wryly, the unusual woman explained, "I have an inheritance; thank Merlin, since knut-pinching villagers and students hardly make it worth keeping the shop doors open." Leading the way further into the book area, she sighed. "My husband loved Hogsmeade. He bribed me with a cottage and shop to stay after we left school and married. After the…accident…two years ago, my little girl Natalie needed to be near her father, and I didn't want to leave Artie either, so we stayed."

"Did you ever regret it?" asked Rosmerta. Immediately, she was struck by how that might sound. "Don't answer, I was rude to ask."

"No, it's a refreshing change from that lot who "Mrs." each other so proper-like and then gossip behind their backs," Fiona said, before admitting, "Sometimes, but most days I'm glad I stayed." She escorted her customer to a large display of books. "This is my 'best sellers' rack. Romance, mainly, but you'll find several mysteries and a few…"

"Mum, mum, I don't want to practise my writing anymore. I want to go play next door with Emma!" a dark haired little girl cried, running across the shop to hug her mother's waist. The upturned face was sweetly pleading. The child looked to be around seven, by the missing front tooth.

Fiona looked at the clock on the wall and said, "Alright, you can go, but before you do, say hello to my new friend Rosmerta."

Round brown eyes looked at Rosmerta with a hopeful expression. "Are you our new troop leader? Mum said if she ever found more than fair weather friends…"

"Natalie! Are you tired? Because you're babbling, and if that's because you're tired, you can take a nap," Fiona cut in.

"No, I'm not tired. I'm going to see Emma. Bye Mum, Bye Miss Rosmerta!"

"Bye Natalie." Amused by the mother and daughter, Rosmerta didn't ask about the mysterious troop, enquiring instead, "Would you have a book on the history of firewhisky?"

"I have 'Ogden's Finest, A History of Excellence' over in the Scotland section."

Rosmerta nodded. "That'll do. It's for my father." Picking a romance with a cover depicting a man clad in black leather straddling a motorbike, she said, "This one's for me."

Fiona's eyes sparkled. "I think he's for every woman."

"Hmmm...Maybe I'd better pick this one instead." The next book portrayed a wizard in Quidditch robes. Turning on the back, Rosmerta read that he was a player looking for a reason to retire.

The woman's smile soured. "That one's got a journalist heroine so thick, she can't figure out he keeps giving her exclusives because he's crazy about her."

"How does it end?"

"Dunno. I had to stop reading it or risk damaging the merchandise."

Laughing softly, Rosmerta decided, "I'll go with your recommendation." She purchased the two books, and a half dozen biscuits to tempt her father's appetite.

Back at the pub, there were no customers waiting for her to open, so she walked around back and decided to extend her break a little longer. She fixed a pot of tea and delivered a mug with several biscuits and the firewhisky book to Da. He made her smile with his look of interest.

In her own rooms, she pinned up her hair and walked into the lav. Within minutes, she was lying in the bath, holding the book up to keep it away from the bubbles and water. As she read, her lips turned up then down. The heroine met the bad-boy hero and told him she wasn't interested, and yet within days snogged him behind the goblin mission she volunteered at! Did she have no self control? The bloke might've saved her from a werewolf, but that didn't mean she had to grab his arse and squeeze to show gratitude! There was obviously a tart beneath that goody-two-shoes surface. Feeling morally superior, Rosmerta eagerly turned another page.

-

* * *

- 

Walking into the Great Hall Thursday night, Sirius nudged James. "Do you feel it?"

"What, your elbow?"

"No, the tension in the air…our public is holding its collective breath, waiting for us to strike."

"Well they can hold it until they turn blue, but we're going to behave ourselves this year."

Once they were seated, Sirius looked across the table and pleaded, "Moony, make him see reason."

Remus told James, "Surely there's room for compromise."

"For Merlin's sake…"

Sirius slapped his hand on the table. "No, for Marauders' sake…c'mon, we're not talking bad prank here, jamming some bloke…"

"Last term, Carrows, ring a bell?"

Peter leaned forward and reminded, "B…but you said he deserved to go in the toilet for using spells to blow air up girls' skirts and see their knickers!"

James said tersely, "True, but it's the first week of school, no one's done anything, and I refuse to pick on someone who doesn't deserve it!"

"He has a point…a mindless stunt hardly adds to our reputation," said Remus.

Sirius reached for the lamb chops in the middle of the table and grumbled, "Then we'll simply wait and prank the next git who rightfully earns it." Trading James the chops for peas, he told the boy shovelling a mound of food onto his plate, "Pass the mint jelly, and I don't mean literally this time, or you'll be getting a thwack."

Holding his earlobe as if already feeling the painful flick, James snickered. "What's the matter, you can dish it out but you can't take it?"

Sirius grinned. "How well you know me."

Later, halfway through a large serving of chocolate gateau, James said, "Hey, what's that Ravenclaw doing coming over to our table?"

Terrence Boot, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, was helping Lily Evans to her feet, smiling and gesturing to her ever-present schoolbag, offering to carry it.

"He's not a prefect. What does he want with her?" James' tone was low and resentful.

"I think he just asked her to study with him in the library," said Remus.

Watching the couple leave the Hall, Sirius leaned over to tell James, "That sure looks like a git who deserves a prank to me."

Peter nodded eagerly. "Y…yes…he deserves a prank to me too."

Face set with the effort to control his emotions, James looked across the table. "Friar Moony, what say you?"

"That sure looks like a git who deserves a prank to me, Robin."

Trying to conceal his glee, Sirius waited until they returned to their dorm to say, "If the only thing that happens tomorrow is Boot gets pranked, Evans will go straight to McGonagall and blame us."

James threw off his robes and yanked down his tie. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

Sirius stretched out on his bed, clasped his hands behind his head and smiled. "We create a smokescreen of epic proportions."

"But Padfoot, we already did smoke bombs, third year." Peter scratched his head in confusion.

"No, Wormtail, he means we pull one prank to divert attention from the other," said Remus. Pulling up a chair, he sat and asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"Something inspired by that Muggle story you told us first year. _The Three Little Pigs.._."

-

Friday, after a night of planning and sneaking out to _borrow _key items and stash them in an unused classroom off the entry, Sirius wasn't the only one who slept in and barely made it to class on time. By mid-morning, however, the four were fully awake and had put the first part of their plan into action.

Taking a position near the target's second class, Peter stepped in front of Boot and was knocked to the ground. Sirius immediately rushed forward and shoved the Ravenclaw, loudly telling him to pick on someone his own size. While Boot stammered denials, James and Remus covertly hexed him with a double dose of their special version of the _Confundus Charm_. Showing no outward confusion, the Quidditch player apologised to his 'victim' and continued to his next class.

The spell didn't manifest until just before lunch, when Boot went to use the lavatory near the entry. Unknowingly confused, he went into the wrong toilet. Feminine screams and shrieks of anger made students stop to see what was going on. When the lavatory door finally opened after being mysteriously stuck, the boy was red faced and begrimed with cosmetics thrown by outraged girls.

The small crowd, which laughed at Boot's embarrassment, laughed harder when squeals echoed in the main corridor near the entry and students caught glimpses of pigs that ran into the Great Hall. At the staff table, teachers stood and ordered students to catch the animals. Shouts of "I can't!" and "They're greased!" were joined by "They've numbers painted on them!" Soon, cries of "I saw a 1!", "This one's 2!" and "That pig had a 4 on it!" rang out. One by one, slippery pigs were captured, until Slughorn, McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick each urged their houses to search beneath the tables for the missing number 3 pig.

While most of his housemates were crawling and peering beneath the table, Sirius was surveying the pandemonium. His cheeks ached from constant grinning. As proud as he was of the mischief managed, his triumph was complete when James lifted his goblet of pumpkin juice and called out, "The honours go to Padfoot. Huzzah!"

Peter sloshed juice in his enthusiasm. "Huzzah!"

Remus grinned wolfishly. "Huzzah!"

After bowing in humble acceptance of well deserved praise, Sirius glanced over at the staff table. Headmaster Dumbledore was watching him with a hint of a smile. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, was not. She had either decided the prankster couldn't count, or correctly deduced there was no pig running round with a 3 on it. Face pale with fury, she beckoned imperiously.

Sirius looked at James and said, "Can't have the Sheriff arrest you. Who'll rob from the rich and give to the poor? Stay here with the men, Robin. This one's on me." Feeling almost merry at the prospect of a blistering scold and weeks of miserable detention, Sirius walked jauntily to meet his fate.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: The strangest things inspire. This chap, it was a scene from _Little Shop of Horrors _where AudreyII tells Seymour "He sure looks like plant food to me!" LOL. Although I pinkie promise never to have Snape sing "Be a Death Eater...you have a talent for causing things pain!" (although I giggle madly thinking of the words "and teaching would suit you still less") I can't promise not to gush over wonderful readers who took time out of busy lives (and studying for grueling exams) to review! The s'marvellous people who reviewed last week were...…♥ **40/16 **♥** AAMLrox **♥ **alix33 **♥** Arilla Rossi **♥ **Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥** dragonrider HP **♥ **ElspethBates **♥** FNP **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **honeymuffins **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥ **Libeku Taganashi **♥** MollyCoddles **♥ **NazgulGirl **♥** Newbie GK **♥ **RahNee **♥ **sunny9847 **♥**Verity Weasley **♥ **waterdreamer **♥** and **♥ **Writer-in-Disguise**♥


	5. Bad to Worse

Chapter 5- Bad to Worse

-

He'd never had detention on a weekend before. It was almost an honour, to receive such a rare punishment. Sirius covered a yawn and huddled further inside his cloak. The days might warm up nicely, but the castle was chilly in the mornings. He could see his breath as he walked the corridor to reach Filch's office.

Professor McGonagall had declared she was too 'incensed' to oversee his detention personally. After seeing the way her eyes blazed with the same fire his mother used to display before hexing, he'd readily agreed to report to the caretaker's office instead. Argus Filch might be surly, malicious, and creepily fond of his cat, but he was also a Squib. However unpleasant he tried to be, the man didn't have the magical ability to make Sirius' life more than a figurative hell.

"You're late," said the caretaker, when the Gryffindor walked in.

"Really? My watch must be slow. I'll synchronise it to yours right now," offered Sirius. "I've got a minute before seven. What time do you have?"

Filch looked at his timepiece as though it betrayed him, muttering, "That's neither here nor there. Be early next time."

Sirius nodded solemnly and sat down in the chair across from the battered desk, assuming a respectful demeanour. As hoped, it threw the grouchy caretaker for a loop. Brow furrowing, the man snapped, "Don't try and pull the wool over my eyes. I've been clearing up after you and your delinquent friends for too long. No amount of play-acting will lesson your punishment."

"I understand."

"Humph." Leaning back, the Squib ran a hand over his balding head, smoothing down stringy gray hair as he said, "We'll see."

"Meowrrr..."

Sirius watched a cat enter the cramped office. The infamous partner in hunting wrong-doers was as gray as her master, with eerie yellow eyes. The feline regarded him with a slightly cross-eyed stare and then proceeded to rub against his legs. He stiffened, resisting the urge to nudge her away with his foot. His dislike of cats in general and this one in particular might cause him to be less than gentle.

"Mrs. Norris."

In response to the command in her master's tone, the contrary female leapt onto the younger man's lap and proceeded to stretch out. Filch's eyes narrowed into slits. Torn between standing to dump the cat off his lap and tossing her across the desk, Sirius held tightly to the arms of the chair and waited impatiently for the man to do something.

"_Mrs. Norris…"_

The cajoling tone made the hairs on the back of Sirius' neck stand on end. He'd heard blokes trying to get round a tetchy girlfriend sound just like that. The feline closed her eyes and began to purr. The boy almost jumped out of his skin when sharp claws began kneading his thigh.

"_MRS. NORRIS!"_

The cat rolled to her feet and sprang onto the desk. She padded over to rub her forehead against Filch's caressing hand. The sight made Sirius glad his stomach was empty. He flicked short cat hairs off his robes and waited for the Squib to be reassured Mrs. Norris still liked him best. It took awhile, but Sirius had plenty of hairs to remove. So many, in fact, that he wondered…was it possible for cats to shed at will?

"Get up boy, you're burning daylight."

Sirius got to his feet and followed the pair out into the corridor. Impishly, he closed and unclosed a fist, thinking _burn, baby, burn. _A glance at his watch showed time had not magically moved forward, contrary to Filch's belief about his ability to burn daylight. Heroically living with the disappointment, he chose not to share his findings. After all, the man had a book on his desk titled 'Squib or Repressed Wizard? How Parents Squelch Potential.' He obviously preferred to cling to delusions.

"I heard you sigh…feeling sorry for yourself, are you? Not half as sorry as you're going to be."

Aware through bitter experience that to speak was to suffer; he trailed after the caretaker in silence. Every few metres, Mrs. Norris would look back and yowl. Was she warning him not to try and escape or reassuring her master the prisoner was still accounted for? Both ideas made him smile with appropriately black humour.

Once they reached the dungeons, Sirius began to speculate what his first task would be. Scrape tuberworms off desks? Gut frogs? Pry out eyes of newts with his fingernails? Hard luck if the last…he'd just clipped.

"What are you doing down here, boy?" Filch suddenly demanded.

Sirius gazed over the caretaker's shiny pate to see a familiar greasy-haired Slytherin pause in the act of entering a dungeon.

"Professor Slughorn gave me permission to brew a potion." Looking down his hooked nose, Severus Snape curled his lip to see the other boy. Sirius mockingly copied the expression and then contemptuously looked away.

"Wait right here…I'll have to verify that."

Alone with his least favourite person, Sirius leaned a shoulder against the stone wall and examined his manicure. Blokes like Snape just didn't understand the importance of personal grooming. Girls didn't want to hold the hand of a guy with ragged, grimy nails. In fairness, he conceded they probably didn't want to hold the hand of a sallow-faced git, regardless of hygiene.

"Ahem…"

Outwardly ignoring the sound of a throat clearing, Sirius mentally braced himself for yet another charming conversation with the boy he'd nicknamed Snivellus.

"I suppose you think it _noble _to shoulder the blame for your fellow miscreants."

Buffing his nails against the fabric of his robes, Sirius drawled, "Well I _am _from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Noblesse oblige and all…" Smirking, he added, "But I suppose _your kind _wouldn't know about that, although you should, being on the receiving end."

A look of fury twisted thin features before they smoothed into a horrible facsimile of a smile. "Didn't you hear? You no longer belong to any House. You've been _removed _from the family tapestry, blasted away as if you never existed."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "They'll think of me every time they walk past the scorch mark and if you think I care..."

"You should care," spat Snape bitterly.

"Should I? No…I'll leave that to those who wish they had an ancient name to elevate themselves in pure-blood society." Snapping his fingers, Sirius said, "I've got it. You slip my cousin Narcissa _Amortentia_ potion, take her name after the marriage and make your dream come true." His adversary's white face and tight lips betrayed that Sirius had scored a hit. He decided to rub it in. "Severus Snape-Black…it's got that desperate social climber ring to it…it's you."

"_Silencio! Incarcerous!"_

In retrospect, baiting an enemy who had known more hexes first year than most people learned over seven hadn't been the most prudent of actions. Mute and bound in cords, Sirius tried to concentrate on performing a nonverbal counter spell while Snape, wand shaking with the force of his anger, whispered venomously, "You, who take no pride in blood, who has no higher ambition than winning the adulation of schoolgirls, you dare ridicule _me? _With a wave of my wand, I could cut you in half and leave you to bleed, I could…_AHAHAHAHA_…"

Snape staggered back, laughing uncontrollably. Sirius grimaced at the sight of crooked teeth and wished he'd practised nonverbal spells over the summer. _Rictusempra _was the only one he'd been able to cast.

"I told you leaving those two unsupervised was brewing disaster! Next time heed my counsel, Mr. Filch," said Professor Slughorn, breathing heavily as he came lumbering toward the boys. The heavyset wizard countered each spell, frowning in disapproval. "What went on here?"

"We…had a disagreement," said Snape.

"So I saw." The professor's dry tone turned sharp. "What was the nature of this _disagreement_, Mr. Black?"

If Sirius loathed Snape for being a Dark Arts loving, pure-blood worshiping, snide bastard, he despised the Head of Slytherin House for oozing all over anyone he thought had connections or the promise of a bright future. Vain and self-centred, the professor treated his students according to how useful they were…or could be. Sirius had turned down the offer to join the man's 'Slug Club' fifth year and now declined to recount the episode, merely stating, "We disagreed on the subject of blood purity."

"And that display of spellwork? What was that?"

"We were agreeing to disagree, Sir."

"Humph…" The professor pursed thick lips and then said, "If I discover you boys _agreeing _like this again, you will both have detention with me."

"You're not giving them detention, professor? No magic outside class is the rule, and they broke it!" protested Filch.

"And your lack of foresight allowed it to happen, Mr. Filch, but if you wish to take this matter to the Headmaster…"

"No, no. That's not necessary, thank you, Sir." With a glare of displaced anger, the caretaker ordered, "Move along, Black, you've got work to do."

"Enjoy clearing the Deathday banquet," murmured Snape. "From the faint stench, the food was especially rotten last night."

Sirius pretended not to hear the malevolent bat, although his stomach clenched, and he was now doubly grateful to have an empty stomach.

-

* * *

- 

_The goblins were so thankful to have a hot meal and a kind word that she felt ashamed of her initial reluctance to volunteer at the mission. Her best mate had needed someone to fill in, and she'd agreed, expecting to be counting the minutes until she could leave. Instead, the time had flown by and she'd met people who opened her eyes about the plight of those who were second-class citizens in the Wizarding world. She'd returned every night this past week. _

_After serving dinner and helping clear the kitchen, she played and read books to the children, giving tired mothers a break. When the sleepy-eyed little goblins went off to bed, the young woman read the Daily Prophet to a grandfather and then bid the full time staff goodnight. _

_Warding the back door to the mission, she looked up at the waxing moon and smiled. _

"_Beautiful, isn't it?" said a raspy voice. _

_She jumped and laughed nervously as a man walked out of the shadows. A nearby streetlight illuminated his coarse features. "Mr. Lycan, I told you before, I'm just a volunteer. I don't own the mission."_

"_I'm no longer interested in purchasing this building," he said with a wolfish smile. "My…desire…has turned to making another kind of acquisition." With alarming speed, he closed the gap between them, asking, "Wouldn't you like to run with the moon?"_

"_No," she said on a gasp._

_He raised his hand. It turned into a claw. "In a few days, you might not have a choice."_

_Before she could do more than draw breath to scream, the roar of an engine filled the alley. Lycan raised his hand to block the glare of the light barrelling toward them. He threw her a look of menacing promise and retreated from the approaching motorbike. _

"_Are you all right?"_

_She trembled in reaction. The man she'd pretended was just another volunteer pulled her into his arms and held her close. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes."_

"_You need to file a report with the Ministry."_

"_I will. First thing tomorrow." She looked up into the face only a goblin wouldn't think breathtakingly handsome and said, "I want to thank you."_

_When she rose up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, he turned his head. The moment her lips brushed his, she was gone. Out of control and over her head. She couldn't get close enough, couldn't kiss him deep enough, and couldn't stop her hands from sliding down his back to reach his backside. _

"_Oh gods, Sirius," she said on a moan, "You have the finest arse."_

_-_

"Oh gods!" cried Rosmerta, jerking awake at the shocking turn of her dream. She sat up in bed and pushed her hair out of her face. Deep breaths were taken to slow her racing heart. She reached over to the bedside table and picked up the book she'd been re-reading. Her eyes widened as she looked down at the cover. Overlong black hair, sunglasses, leather, motorbike…damn it to Hades, the bloke looked a lot like Sirius Black! And the heroine was a blue-eyed blonde…

Rosmerta threw back the covers and marched over to the rubbish bin. She muttered, "I did not buy this due to a subconscious urge to find an outlet for a momentary and superficial attraction to someone entirely inappropriate." Dropping the romance novel into the bin, she walked back to bed and checked the clock. 3AM. Saturday was the busiest day of the week, so she needed to get back to sleep. After fluffing her pillow, she lay down on her side and closed her eyes.

Thirty minutes later, she was lying on her back, tapping her fingers on the duvet. _I can't sleep because I was taught to treat books with respect, not waste them by chucking them out like tissues. _Rosmerta sat up, thinking, _I don't have to throw it away; I can save it and donate it to a lending library, or the Ladies' Society rummage sale. _

A minute later, she gazed down at the cover and said, "Don't think this means you're special, or that I won't get rid of you at the first opportunity. Because you're not, and I will!" With a decisive nod, she slipped the book face down beneath the mattress, climbed back in bed, and fell immediately asleep.

-

Although tired from a night of broken sleep, Rosmerta enjoyed chatting with all the customers who wandered into the Broomsticks. Most had known her before she'd left the village and saw her as more than the girl who had run off to the city with a boy who was no good. Not that she didn't get her share of speculative looks from men who wondered if she was easy and women who wondered if she'd run off again…this time with a man from the village.

Right after lunch, when the crowd thinned out a bit, she smiled to see the bookshop owner enter the pub. Her part time helper Dorrie was more than capable, so she nodded for her to handle any customers and waved the woman to a stool at the end of the bar. "Hello Fiona. Read any good books lately?"

"Hey, that's my line." Smiling, Fiona asked for cherry syrup and soda with ice and an umbrella.

"Isn't that Professor McGonagall's favourite drink?"

"Yes. I always wanted to be like her when I grew up."

"I don't see you scraping your hair into a bun and wearing tartan."

Fiona winked. "I have a tartan bed-robe, and I keep my hair short to resist temptation."

Laughing softly, Rosmerta prepared the drink and put in an extra umbrella in . It amused her to think of Fiona's little girl and her neighbour Emma playing dolls with the tiny umbrellas. She asked, "How is Natalie?"

Taking a long drink, Fiona sighed. "Much too good at playing adults off each other, is our Natalie." Giving a humourless chuckle, she said, "Did you know, at some joining ceremonies they say 'till death do us part'?" Snorting, she added, "Yeah, right," and downed the drink.

Wondering what her new friend was going on about, Rosmerta said, "You do know that's non-alcoholic?"

"Sure, I just needed a sugar rush. Hit me again, and make it a double this time."

"Alright, but I'm going to have to cut you off if you start bouncing off the walls."

Fiona snickered over the thought. She sipped her new drink and confided, "I'm glad he wants to make up for all the time he never spent with her, and Merlin knows I couldn't supervise her studies half so well, but damn, he's such a know-all, and constantly agreeing to things Natalie sure as hell never ran by me and..." She broke off, frowning. "You look like you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"I don't."

"Is that a mickey take?"

Rosmerta shook her head. "I understand you're having problems with a childminder or tutor..."

"I wish. A tutor I could sack, but how do you get rid of an ex-husband? Exorcism?"

"Are you saying...?"

"Artie died in his lab beneath the bookshop. He felt it wouldn't be fair to move on and leave me to raise Natalie alone, so he stayed."

While Rosmerta was still trying to get her mind around the idea, Fiona noticed a man standing nearby and called, "Read any good books lately, Mr. MacInnes?"

Tall and athletic, the redheaded proprietor of the village sporting goods shop looked over and smiled. "Not since the one you recommended last week, Mrs. Fowl. Got one in mind for me?"

"Sure. _Everything I Know I Learnt from Quidditch. _And I've told you my last name puts me in a foul mood. Call me Fiona."

"I'll pick it up tomorrow and please, call me..."

_"Hamish! Time for our match!"_

The man's blue eyes twinkled. "Darts wait for no man. Be seeing you, Fiona."

"Yeah, sure, see you, Hamish." Turning to meet an interested gaze, the woman demanded, "What?"

"Nothing," Rosmerta demurred, before asking with studied casualness, "Did you ever finish the rest of that novel you found so annoying?"

"The one with the oblivious heroine? No, why?"

Running a cloth over the bar, Rosmerta answered, "I think you should give it another chance."

-

* * *

- 

"How're you doin' lad?"

Sirius was currently lugging an enormous bowl of steak tartar across the school grounds. He said, "I'd do better if you'd carry this for me."

Chuckles rumbled like thunder. The massive groundskeeper shook his head. "Filch's instructions were that you alone carry the load...the way you did after that prank." Hagrid's bushy beard touched the top of Sirius' head as he bent down to ask, "Where'd yeh get the pigs?"

"Farmer Hoggett's."

Booming laughter gained the attention of students enjoying the mild afternoon. A group of five started walking in their direction. Sirius asked quickly, "D'you mind if we pick up the pace a bit? My detention's over for the day after this, so..."

"Not so fast, Black, hold up..."

The _Sonorus _charm amplified James' voice to carry clearly across the grassy lawn. Hagrid smiled. "You can say hello to your friends."

Prongs, Wormtail, and Moony were accompanied by Dorcas Meadowes and Jane Weston. They all gaped at the sight of Sirius' filthy robes.

"What's all over you, Sirius...f...food?"

"Yes, Peter. I had the joy of clearing the banquet table after a Deathday Party." He gave a tight lipped smile. "Without magic."

James winced. "Sorry, mate."

"How did you get food in your hair?" asked Jane.

He didn't bother trying to fake a smile this time. "Peeves challenged me to a food fight."

"Who won?" said Peter eagerly.

Sirius clipped, "Peeves."

His three best mates in the entire world looked at him sympathetically and then broke into laughter. Beside him, Hagrid realised that Sirius was not amused and said, "No more time to mess about, so say your goodbyes and move along."

Sirius began marching toward the forest, uncaring if he slopped blood on his sleeve. He wanted this chore over with so he could go soak in the bath and feel clean again. Following Hagrid a short way into the Forbidden Forest, he placed the bowl down and hurriedly backed away as directed.

"If I was teaching Care of Magical Creatures, I'd show students ones that put the magic in Magizoology, like my Thestrals. Here they come!"

Sirius had known since second year what really pulled the carriages to Hogwarts, but another boy would've thought Hagrid barmy to ooh and ahh over what appeared to be thin air. Watching the bloody meat in the bowl disappearing, the huge man said affectionately, "They love the smell of blood, and are never happier than when they see carrion." Glancing sideways, Hagrid said, "Can't see them, can yeh lad? Bein' a Black an' all, I thought...but no matter. I have Rosmerta to help if need be."

Sirius listened to the flapping of unseen wings, and thought about the woman who had seen death. Whose? A stranger's or someone she knew? How did she cope? He had so many questions. A determined smile crossed his face. He looked forward to learning the answers.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Readers who look forward to learning what Sirius and Rosmerta will be up to next chap make my day, and those who made my week with their reviews were...…♥ **40/16 **♥** AAMLrox **♥ **comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥** dragonrider HP **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawan**♥** FNP **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **Hurley's Belial **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** Machiavelli Jr **♥**MollyCoddles **♥** Newbie GK**♥** potteronpotluvhim **♥ **ronandhermy **♥ **RahNee **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black**♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **sunny9847**♥** tiedye **♥**Verity Weasley**♥ **Writer-in-Disguise**♥** and**♥** WriterMerrin**♥


	6. Reading the Signs

Chapter 6- Reading the signs

-

Sirius couldn't say the years he'd spent learning Divination were completely worthless. After all, he'd made quite a few galleons the previous summer during his brief stint as a fortune-teller. One night in a pub, he'd met a gypsy-looking bloke who had been impressed by his playful reading of an attractive barmaid's palm. Right then and there, Mihai Cioaba invited him to do some travelling. Drunk enough to dare anything, Sirius happily agreed.

Sadly, the unique blend of camaraderie and commerce hadn't lasted over a fortnight. Mihai had been sad to ask him to leave, but his daughter Rosina was casting her eyes his way, and Papa had plans to betroth her to a well-to-do Traveller named Florin.

Those memories became vivid as Sirius looked around the chamber at the top of the Divination Tower. Some of the fabrics and fringe reminded him of the Travellers' Caravans. It was the bright colours. The incense wafting about smelt familiar too.

"May I read your palm, Sirius?" asked Jane Weston.

Jane also reminded him of the Travellers. She was too like Rosina for comfort, giving him doe-eyed looks and always following him around. Since his classmate knew he wasn't hard of hearing, he couldn't pretend not to hear her like he had Rosina. Instead, he nodded after shooting daggers at his worm-brained friend. One smile from Felicity Bingley and Peter eagerly agreed to sit at their table. Sirius regretted the quixotic impulse to take the class to support his roommate. Sighing heavily, he held out his hand.

"Oh! Your skin is smooth. I'd expected it to be rougher."

He shrugged. It had been over a week since his first detention. Did she think one day of grueling manual labour would cause lasting calluses? Perhaps it might have, if he hadn't gone to the infirmary right off. Madam Pomfrey was brusque and frowned over his 'shenanigans', but she'd used the cream usually reserved for staff and handed him a special soap to neutralise the odours of rotted food.

"I should be better at this after years of practise, but I'll do my best. Let's take a look at your lines…"

Jane's cheeks were pink as she bent over his hand. He glanced over at Felicity. There was no such blush on her cheeks as she held his mate's podgy hand. In fact, there was a wrinkle over her dainty nose. Had Peter not washed his hands after lunch? Did he smell of purple onions?

"Why are you smiling? I just told you your Line of Life is short!"

The poor thing sounded distressed. Did she believe in this hocus-pocus? Sirius wished Peter had done the reading. He became increasingly restive while she pored over his hand as if it was the Rosetta stone. Was she afraid he'd never ask her to Hogsmeade if she foretold a dismal future? Since he never planned to, she might as well spit it out.

Jane cried, "Professor! Would you help us please?"

Jeremy Edwards strolled over. The Divination professor had a calm smile girls admired as much as his handsome features and blue eyes. "Tell me where you're having difficulty, Miss Weston."

"His Line of Life is so short…I couldn't help studying the Line of Mercury and the Health Line… I wanted to find evidence that determination and strength enable him to overcome difficult moments, but…I can't find anything!"

The wizard, seemingly unaware of the hush in classroom, stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Have you made a careful study of _both _hands?"

"No."

Addressing all the students, Edwards said, "It happens from time to time that someone will have one hand with good characteristics and a well defined Line of Life while the other is lacking. Miss Weston has correctly studied Mr. Black's left hand, the one that portends in most cases. Now the right must be studied, for it confirms or mitigates the left's prediction."

He smiled reassuringly at Sirius. "May I?"

"Sure."

Professor Edwards knelt to study the boy's palms. He glanced up and said in a hushed undertone, "I refuse to pronounce dire fates for my students, Mr. Black. Kindly do not refute my words." The man stood and addressed the class, "Mr. Black's Emotional Line is born in the Mount of Jupiter. Therefore, he is highly ambitious and knows instinctively how to take advantage of life's opportunities. Combined with the Life Line, such a portent merely indicates a life that will be ruled by emotions for short periods of time." Shaking his finger, he admonished with a smile, "Watch your temper, Mr. Black."

While the rest of the class laughed and turned their attention back to their own palm readings, Jane said, "I'm so sorry."

Sirius waved a hand airily. "Don't be, although I was startled to hear I've got a temper. I think of myself as such an easy-going bloke."

"Oh you are, you are," she said earnestly.

He tried not to laugh. The girl didn't know him at all. On his other side, Peter snickered. "Easy-going when you get your way."

He gave a bark of laughter. "Is that too much to ask?" Peter's snorting laugh reminded him of the pigs they'd borrowed for the prank and set him off. Only the sound of the professor clearing his throat quieted the boys' mirth.

"See, you laugh at yourself. That proves you're a nice person," declared Jane.

"He laughs at everyone," said Peter. "Does that make Sirius the nicest bloke at Hogwarts?"

"Ha! Good one." Sirius saluted his friend, smiled at Felicity, who was watching with a slight frown- she'd have a permanent wrinkle over her nose soon- and turned to Jane. Treating her like a customer who didn't have enough money to make a prolonged reading worthwhile, he said briskly, "Let's see what your palm reveals."

Her skin was clammy. His brother Regulus always had clammy hands. Sirius had tried to get the boy to play outside, improve his circulation, but Reggie had always tugged his hand away. He hated to get dirty and sweaty. He'd rather read a book on a window seat, watching his brother play pirates with an imaginary crew. Sirius grinned. They'd been the best hearties a captain could have, spreading mayhem across the seven seas, but it would've been nice to have his brother as first mate.

"What do you see that makes you smile like that?"

To cover up his inattention, Sirius traced the line that started between her thumb and index finger and curved around the Mound of Venus with a fingertip. "Your Life Line is well formed. There are no crosses or breaks, not even small ones. Furthermore, not a stain mars your skin. Therefore, your life will be long and filled with serenity and peace."

"Really?"

"It's as good a premonition as any," he answered with a straight face. Sirius kept his composure, fighting the urge to smile at her naive faith in what amounted to no more than fancy superstition. He didn't want her to think he was making fun of her…and he really didn't want Jane to think he was interested in anything more than casual friendship.

At the end of class, the professor asked Sirius to wait when the others began to climb down the ladder. Once they were alone, the wizard shook his head sombrely. "I've never seen Life Lines as short as yours without any other signs to mitigate the negative prognosis. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not dead yet, Professor."

"That's an admirable attitude," Edwards praised before saying, "You have a natural bent toward Divination, Mr. Black, although your scepticism impedes your gift. If you ever become interested in contacting those who have crossed over, let me know."

"Thanks, but I see enough dead people with the ghosts around here."

The professor's smile was one of patient amusement. "I speak of those on the other side of the veil." His gaze was earnest as he continued, "My gift manifested when I was around your age, so if you begin to hear otherworldly voices whispering in the still of night..."

"I'll let you know," Sirius promised before heading toward the ladder. On the way down, he laughed inwardly, thinking, _if whispering voices disturb my sleep, I'm going to tell them to shut the hell up._

_-_

_

* * *

_

_-_

Rosmerta had become a rambler. Not the type of person who natters on just to talk- someone who took long, rambling walks. Before now, except for skipping rope, she'd never been keen on exercise. Luckily, her metabolism was high enough to accommodate her appetite, so her first ramble had been for something besides health benefits.

She'd wanted a brief escape. Taking a walk was her way of taking a break from the mounting stress of juggling her father's care with running the pub. It had come as a surprise how much she enjoyed the activity. Once she'd walked through the village and into the forest, the peace and tranquillity of her surroundings had soothed her troubled spirit.

In the weeks since then, Rosmerta had climbed hills to enjoy panoramic views, walked along the banks of lochs, and followed narrow trails into the ancient Forbidden Forest. More and more, however, she'd begun walking the path to Hogwarts. She'd told herself it was a smooth, easy route, that she was nostalgic to see old sights, and she didn't actually walk to the gates themselves. She turned around long before anyone at the school could see her, even with omnioculars. The little voice in the back of her mind thought otherwise.

_Hoping a naughty student will be skiving off, are you?_

No, of course she didn't hope to run into anyone! She liked her solitude. She did. The only times Rosmerta enjoyed company was during the times she ran into Hamish MacInnes and his Wizard Scout troop on tracks near the village. The boys were so cute, singing cadence as they marched in their uniforms. Hamish had a pleasant voice, and looked quite fanciable in short trousers.

When she shared the opinion with Fiona, the woman listened in disbelief before demanding, "Are you taking the mickey?"

"No," she replied calmly, watching a cherry drink be consumed as if it was 100 proof.

"He's a beanpole. It's inconceivable that he's got anything but stork legs!"

Trying not to laugh, Rosmerta shook her head. "He's rangy, but our Hamish has very nice, muscular legs. Bit of a tan, too."

"Humph. I don't believe you. I've passed his group loads of times and never noticed his legs once."

"Maybe you weren't looking."

Fiona seemed struck by the thought and nodded before her considering expression narrowed. "Does that mean _you_ were looking?"

Hiding a smile, Rosmerta replied lightly, "Only in an impersonal, 'enjoying the scenery' way."

"Oh." Lips curving, Fiona teased, "I get it. You only go for the bad boy on a motorbike type."

Snapping her bar towel at the other woman, she shot back, "I like him off the bike, too." Laughing with a mate about men felt good. It was a welcome change from crying. She heard Fiona ask her favourite question and admitted, "No, I haven't read any book, good or bad, since the one I bought a week ago."

"_Over _a week ago, and..."

"I stand corrected, and I'll be in tomorrow to spend hard-earned galleons on romance novels," said Rosmerta, to head off a scold. It was amusing to hear Fiona chide others for neglecting to buy a book, but for some reason, she felt too prickly to be on the receiving end.

Later that night, when Dorrie had headed back to her cottage and Rosmerta began casting deep cleaning spells, a memory surfaced. Polishing the wood of the bar, she gazed down at the reflective surface and remembered…

_Professor Sprout looked up from the delicate plant she was tending and said, "What fertiliser do you suggest I use? Dragon dung or Bladderwort?"_

_Rosmerta smiled as she walked further into the greenhouse. "Since that's a Marisko orchid, why not use Norwegian kelp?"_

"_Ah, so you actually read the book I assigned on the plants of Norway. It's been over a week since you failed to turn in your essay, so I did wonder."_

"_I finished it, but not on time."_

"_And I do not accept late work," Sprout said with a kind but firm smile. _

"_I'm sorry, professor."_

_Completing her ministrations to the orchid, Sprout set it aside and pulled off her gloves, dark eyes sombre. "I am sorry to see such a promising student fail to live up to her potential. You have become inattentive in class and failed to complete the last three major assignments." Reaching up a hand to adjust her patchwork hat in a gesture that revealed her discomfort, the Head of Hufflepuff warned, "If your performance does not sharply improve during the last few weeks of term, I will be left with no option but to withdraw you from my seventh year class."_

It was funny how a word or phrase triggered memories. Fiona's reproach had reminded her of Sprout's. Years had passed, but she still felt regret and shame over disappointing the professor who had always counselled and encouraged her. Heading toward the kitchen to put a kettle on, Rosmerta sighed. She couldn't change the past. All she could do was try not to make the same mistakes in the future. As she engaged the heating charm on the Aga, she thought of a young man who appealed on so many levels and sighed again. It wasn't going to be easy.

_"Ros?"_

Looking up, although he would only be able to hear her, she called, "Coming, Da!"

Swiftly, she assembled a tea tray and carried it upstairs. Her father was washing his hands in a basin floating over the bed. Rosmerta asked, "Can I help you empty that…or anything else?"

The pitcher that had been pouring water abruptly righted and zoomed over to a table. The dry washbasin followed. "My wand may have broken in the fall, but I am still capable of wandless magic. I don't need you to empty a basin or a bedpan, daughter." Chagrined, she nodded and set the tea tray down on the table beside the bed. He declined a biscuit, but accepted a cup of tea with a slight smile. "How did the till jingle tonight?"

The question evoked images of a little girl awakened by a father's goodnight kiss. Sleepily, she would ask that question. Blinking back happy tears that he remembered, Rosmerta gave the same answer Da used to give, "Like a goblin at Gringotts."

A quiet huff of laughter broke the silence. "How old were you when you realised it was the galleons in their pockets and not the goblins themselves that jingled?"

"Not that old," she demurred.

"You were nine, I believe."

"If you knew, why did you ask?"

Her cheeky tone earned a smile. "I wanted to see if you would admit it." The man's smile faded. "Your motherwas like that. She refused to admit anything that would make her seem less than perfect."

"I admit when I'm wrong, Dad."

He visibly shook off ill humour. "I know you do." After drinking his tea, he said, "I'm not sleepy, so if you want to go over the books…"

She was tired, but didn't want her dad to slip into one of his dark moods. "I'll clear away the tea things and be right back."

Picking up his book on the history of Ogden's Finest, he said wryly, "I'll be waiting."

-

* * *

- 

Sirius was tired of playing the penitent. Had one trifling episode really merited three weeks of detention? It was a few pigs, for Merlin's sake! If he wasn't sure protesting would get his Hogsmeade Weekend privileges revoked, Sirius would've pleaded his case to the Headmaster.

"Stop your wool-gathering and keep scrubbing."

Contenting himself with the mental image of hitting Filch in the face with a sopping sponge, the boy dutifully began scouring another cauldron.

"That stomach solution smells like what it's supposed to prevent, don't it?"

Only thoughts of walking into the Broomsticks and walking out with a dinner invitation kept Sirius from snidely correcting the Squib's grammar. He continued scrubbing.

"Not feeling queasy, are you? I've heard pure-bloods have delicate constitutions, what with all that intermarrying."

Coming from someone who had probably hatched like a reptile, the accusation of inbreeding didn't sting much. So what if his parents were third cousins? Sirius was grateful they hadn't been first…he didn't need any extra digits.

Filch kicked the cauldron, causing water to soak the front of Sirius' robes. "Speak up, boy, are you pure-bloods inbred or not?"

He really shouldn't answer…but the thought of his mates' faces when he told them the story later made him say, "Well, my father is his own grandpa."

"_What?"_

Nodding solemnly, Sirius began, "When my father was twenty-three, he married a widow with a grown daughter. My grandfather married her, and became my father's son-in-law, while my father's daughter became his mother, since she was his father's wife."

"But…how…"

"It will all become clear," he assured before continuing, "My father had me, a boy, who became a brother-in-law to my grandfather and an uncle to my dear old dad. This made him sad, because if I was his uncle, then that made him brother to the widow's grown daughter, who naturally was his step-mother."

The caretaker's brow furrowed with the effort to comprehend. "And your father became his own grandpa because…"

"Because my grandfather's wife had a son, who became father's grandchild, since the boy's mother was Dad's daughter."

"So your father's wife was his mother's mother…"

Sirius threw out his hands. "Yes! My father is husband to his own grandmother, so…"

"He's his own grandpa!" Shaking his head in disgust, Filch backed away. "You pure-bloods are even more vile and despicable than I'd thought! Clear this mess and get back to your house."

Once he was alone, Sirius began humming the tune that had tickled him when he'd heard it in a pub. The bloke who performed had been happy to write the lyrics down on back of a menu, explaining he hadn't written them--he thought it was some Yanks from a band called _The Grateful Dead. _Feeling extremely grateful to be alone, Sirius pulled out his wand and began casting spells as fast as he could. Soon, every cauldron was clean and he was on his way back to Gryffindor.

"Finished with detention already, Black?"

Sirius looked up to see the Head Girl descending the Dungeon steps with a Hufflepuff prefect. He drawled, "Stating the obvious, Evans?"

The redhead's lips turned down. "I suppose you think you're funny."

Directing his charm at the girl who appreciated it, he winked at the Hufflepuff. "I aim to amuse."

She giggled. Evans snapped, "Your aim is off." Pointing imperiously, she ordered, "Return to the house, it's after curfew."

"Yes, ma'am!"

While the girls continued down to patrol the dungeon corridors, Sirius climbed the stairs with a rebellious smirk on his face. He didn't feel like going back to Gryffindor. He was going to take a run and see if Rosmerta was still feeding strays.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: I had to say "he thought it was some Yanks from a band called _The Grateful Dead" _because although many people (including me) may have thought that, it was actually some country band Lonzo and Oscar. Thanks to **turtlestooth **for letting me know! I've heard Sirius described as a contrarian, and while I don't think he's easy to manipulate with reverse psychology, I do think he has a very negative reaction to being told what to do. Can anyone blame him? The amazing readers whose reviews I blame for making me smile so much people think I'm up to no good, lol, are...…♥ **40/16**♥** alix33 **♥** armygundamgirl **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Distempered **♥** dragonrider HP **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawan**♥ **FNP **♥ **GraceRichie**♥** honeymufins **♥ **Hurley's Belial **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** Machiavelli Jr**♥** MollyCoddles **♥** NazgulGirl**♥** petiteloupegarou **♥ **RahNee**♥ **rt**♥ and♥ **sunny9847 **♥


	7. One Step Forward

Chapter 7- One Step Forward

-

People called him a dog like it was a bad thing, but Sirius loved his Animagus form. Dogs were so uncomplicated compared to humans. They had simpler needs. His everyday cares seemed unimportant when he was a canine.

After 'interviews' with mother, that simplicity had been an unparallel blessing. Walburga Black was diabolically clever at using words like daggers, knowing exactly where to stab and slice to cause the most pain. Sirius' ability to transform and curl up in a patch of sunshine, clearing his mind of negative thoughts, had allowed him to endure life at Grimmauld Place. His family claimed he had no pride, but they were wrong. Becoming an Animagus was the only accomplishment he'd ever been truly proud of.

It was also fun. His senses expanded in ways that never ceased to amaze. The ability to see in near darkness and prick up his ears to hear sounds made running at night a joy. His acute sense of smell made tracking fun too.

Sometimes when they were out in the forest, Sirius would get his friends to run, just so he could track them. Prongs was the tricky sort, always doubling back and crossing water to try and throw off the scent. He made the hunt a challenge. Wormtail was only worth chasing to hear squeak with fright. That high-pitched sound was bloody hilarious. Padfoot barked his head off every single time.

As he reached the outskirts of the village, he slowed his gallop to a trot, although his long legs and strong heart made running effortless. Dogs didn't suffer the muscle fatigue humans did. Once, after Sirius had sprinted up the Astronomy Tower steps to make it to class on time, he'd complained to James that he wouldn't be out of breath if he'd bounded up in Animagus form. His mate had jibed, "But then all the girls would know you really are a dog, and you'd never get a date at this school again!"

Sirius didn't care about getting a date at school. He was more interested in extra-curricular activities. The woman he wanted to explore those activities with, however, was nowhere in sight when he approached the back of the pub. He felt a pang of disappointment. Not that he had really expected her to stand in the doorway every night, hoping for him to return.

The back door opened. Rosmerta stepped out with a dish in her hand, muttering, "I don't know why I bother to check anymore. He hasn't…" Hearing a low woof, she called out, "Grimmy, is that you?"

Aha! He knew it! Even in his Animagus form, he was unforgettable. Padfoot strolled into the pool of light and stopped to lower his forequarters in a playful bow.

"I know what that means. You want to play." She set down the bowl and said, "Pot roast. Are you hungry?"

Sirius was always hungry and she was a good cook. In short order, he finished off the meat and lapped some water from a crock she'd cleaned since the last time he'd visited. That was nice of her. Some villagers didn't seem to care if their animals were forced to drink brackish water. They'd gone on his prank list.

"Where'd you go, Grimmy? I missed you," she said, scratching behind his ears. He lifted his muzzle so she could get under his chin as well. After several minutes of petting, he darted away and came back. She said, "Oh, you want to play!" Rosmerta scanned the yard. "I know there's a ball around here somewhere. My friend's little girl was throwing it against the wall earlier, in some bouncing game."

Padfoot looked around and spied it in shrubbery just out of range of the torchlight. He walked over and picked it up, dropping the small ball at her feet.

"Well, look at you! Found something to play with, did you, big boy?"

_Yes, you, _he thought. When she threw the ball, Sirius obligingly ran to go fetch. A few throws later, he decided to play a new game.

"Why aren't you going to fetch? Why are you circling me? You look like an overgrown puppy bouncing around like that with your tail wagging. What do you want to play?"

Rosmerta's laughing questions made him grin inside. She looked so pretty when she smiled. He nudged her leg with his forehead and trotted away before looking back expectantly.

"You want me to chase you? Sorry, love, I don't chase anybody." Thwarted, he trotted back, only to have her tag him. "Ha! Got you!"

She had excellent evasive moves, but Sirius would have had no problem catching her. He merely chose not to. It was much more enjoyable watching her body twist and sway while she laughed like a carefree girl. Eventually, though, Rosmerta tired and flopped down to lie on the grass. He shamelessly rested his head on the skin exposed by her un-tucked blouse.

"Look at the stars. I was never good at Astronomy, or I'd tell you which one is the Dog Star." She petted him and said, "Maybe Fiona has a book that will tell me." Giggling, she added, "It would make a change from those romance novels I've been reading. I never knew there were so many writers fixated on men with motorbikes."

His ears pivoted forward. What was this? Rosmerta was fixated on men with motorbikes?

"What are those grumbly noises for? Laughing at my taste in literature? I'll have you know I'm only buying that tosh in order to donate them to the Ladies' Society rummage sale. It's for a good cause." Her fingers rubbed tiny circles on the top of his head while she mused, "Maybe it's not dark, mysterious men I fancy, but their motorbikes. Perhaps I should buy one."

He'd love to teach her to drive…or take her on a ride, with her arms wrapped tight, leaning into the curves while she leaned her curves against him.

"Grimmy! You slobbered on me. Ick." She ruffled his fur before pushing him off, wiping away perfectly natural canine moisture. "Don't give me that mournful look. I have to go in and check on my Da." Rosmerta gave him one last pat, saying, "I hope you come back and see me again."

He watched her rise, thinking, _Don't worry, I will. _

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta smiled as she washed her hands and considered keeping Grimmy as a pet. She'd always wanted a dog, and it would make her feel safe to have his company at night.

"_Ros!"_

The urgency in her father's voice caused her to rush upstairs, hastily wiping her still-wet hands on her skirt. She saw her father on the floor, struggling to lift himself. Rosmerta knelt beside him. "Da, what happened?"

"I reached for the water and toppled right off." His face was red, his tone one of anger and frustration.

She said, "Here, let me…"

"Use your wand, daughter. I'm too heavy."

Rosmerta nodded and used a spell to return her father to his bed, but the sad truth was that she could have lifted him the Muggle way. He'd grown so frail. It hurt to watch him waste away in this room. She understood his bitterness, but he had made the choice to climb the remote, dangerously steep mountain alone. It wasn't the Healers' fault that by the time he'd reached help, her father's condition had deteriorated to the point he was lucky to be alive, much less walking.

Her mother had said many times, "Gravity doesn't know how good a climber you are once you start falling, Diarmid."

It was a shame her father felt he no longer lived his name- that he wasn't a 'free man' anymore, but she wasn't doing him any favours by showing pity. Briskly, Rosmerta asked, "Shall I fix you a glass of water?"

He yanked the covers over his useless limbs and snapped, "The only water I want is _Uisge Beatha_."

Whisky was the water of life. She didn't blame him. With a tiny smile, she asked, "MacNaMara?"

He snorted. "Frenchies may like that lighter blend, but not true Scots."

"Té Bheag?"

Her father considered for a moment, and then shook his head. "A wee dram would be a fine thing, but I'm not needin' anything that aged and smooth."

Rosmerta smilingly said the name of his favourite label, whose name meant black pot and was rumoured to come from an illicit still. "Poit Dhubh, then?"

"Aye, fine malt would settle me."

When she returned with the whisky, her father nodded toward the open window. "Was that you I heard laughing earlier?"

"Yes, a dog came…"

"Don't you know better than to encourage strays?" he harshly interrupted, jabbing a finger toward her leg. "Didn't you learn your lesson, girl?"

She lifted the hem of her skirt to reveal the scar on the back of her calf. The memory of a little girl who tried to befriend a dog and received a bite caused her to laugh ruefully. "I learned snarls are not _smiles_, Dad, and haven't tried to pet an unfriendly animal since. Should I think all dogs will hurt me because one did?"

"Seems to be your attitude with men," he said.

Rosmerta's smile turned brittle. "That's not the same, and since you never went out after mother left, you really shouldn't talk."

"I went out."

Her jaw dropped. "_What?_"

Diarmid finished his whisky and said, "I tended bar, daughter. D'you really think in all those years I never took a woman up on her offer to keep company?"

She spluttered, "When? Why didn't you bring any of them round?"

His thin shoulders rose and fell. "They weren't the kind of company I wanted near my daughter."

"Not even one?"

Her father glanced toward the window. "Mebbe the one, but she was married, so nowt could come of it."

"_Married!"_

Stung by the condemnation in her voice, the man on the bed warned, "Don't use that tone with me, young miss. Everybody in this village knows what you got up to in London. You're no better!"

She had to press her lips together to gain composure. Taking a breath, Rosmerta said shakily, "I moved out the night Jonathan told me he'd signed a betrothal agreement. That didn't stop him from coming round, but I never slept with a married man!"

He looked at a loss for words. After a moment of tense silence, he said, "Then those gossip columns about Wilkes' engagement party were…"

She laughed. The sound was devoid of mirth. "True, I'm afraid." Her father's sympathetic gaze rubbed her nerves raw- she hated receiving pity too. Determined to change the subject from their disastrous romantic histories, she said, "The elf-wine's not selling, Da. Should I cut it from the order next time?"

He shook his head. "Reduce it by half, and if custom doesn't improve around the holidays, we'll cut it down to a few bottles."

"Okay, well, thanks, I'm off to bed then."

"Sleep well."

Rosmerta said, "You too, good night," and hurried to her room at the end of the short corridor. In the lavatory, she ran a bath and gratefully immersed herself in warm water. She sighed. If only her memories could float away like soap bubbles. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to travel to the past.

_She'd come in the servants' entrance straight from work. Rosmerta was glad her cloak covered up her clinging blouse and short skirt. The staff already looked at her speculatively. She didn't need to give them any more fuel for gossip. _

_Jonathan was waiting for her in his father's study. She turned her face when he tried to kiss her. He chuckled and trailed his lips across her cheek before saying, "I was starting to think you wouldn't come. Let me take your cloak." He unfastened it before she could protest, his cool gaze heating as his eyes travelled up and down her body. _

_She stepped away when he attempted to take her into his arms. "What was so 'vital to our future' that you had to see me tonight? Hurry up, because you've got a fiancée waiting for you."_

_He smiled. "She won't come between us anymore."_

_Rosmerta's heart jolted. Why had she come here? She was almost over him. This was supposed to be the final straw that broke their connection forever, and now this. She shook her head. "You're lying."_

_Jonathan was like a snake, twining himself around her before she had a chance to escape. "I'm not. We can be together. I'll never let you go again."_

_She didn't return his kisses, but she didn't shove him away, either. She was so confused. He'd lied to her, seduced her into running off and then chosen his family over her, contracted to marry their choice in bride. She couldn't trust him, and didn't even know if she loved him anymore._

_Rosmerta stiffened when she heard the door handle turn, but before she could push her ex-lover away, a feminine voice said, "I'm sure my fiancé would be only too happy to pose for a press photo, gentlemen, so if you'll follow…Jonathan!"_

_The woman in the doorway turned abruptly and said, "There's been a…staff…complication, gentleman. We'll be downstairs shortly." She shut the door in the reporters' faces and turned to state icily, "I told you I didn't care if you kept your whore, Jonathan, but may I remind you that you agreed to be discreet. See this never happens again." Delia Greengrass swept from the room without another word._

_Jonathan wouldn't let Rosmerta break free, so she performed the one nonverbal spell she'd managed to learn for self-defence. After the stunning spell immobilised him, she picked up her cloak and said with finality, "I'm not a whore, and I never want to see you again."_

Rosmerta climbed out of the tub. The bath wasn't relaxing anymore. Chilled, she pulled on a towelling robe and went into the bedroom, where she put on a flannel nightdress and the thickest, fuzziest socks in her drawer. They were a cheery yellow.

A cup of tea sounded good. She went down to the kitchen and found a chocolate bar to go with it, taking a large bite as she climbed the stairs. Once in her room, she set the teacup on the bedside table and knelt beside her mattress. Rosmerta lifted it and contemplated her rapidly expanding collection of romance novels she was saving for a charity rummage sale. She reached for her favourite. Propped up in bed a few minutes later, her fingertips brushed across the portrait on the front cover. She told the black-haired hero, "I'm not reading because of you, Simeon Brown. I just like the goblin mission, and Rose, even if she is a weak-willed grab arse." She ignored the wizard's painted smirk, opened the book and began to read.

-

* * *

- 

After knocking over the rubbish bins of several villagers who hadn't cleaned their water basins and chasing a cat up a tree, Padfoot left Hogsmeade. On the way back to Hogwarts, he stopped off to take a swim in the lake. The giant squid waggled a tentacle in his direction, so he barked a respectful greeting. One never knew if the squid was bewitched into docility, or simply had never become hungry enough to enlarge its food base. He didn't want to offend it and find out the hard way.

Back at the castle, Sirius had to duck behind the statue of Gary the Gregarious to avoid detection by Filch, but otherwise returned to his common room with ease. Inside, he found the chamber deserted.He smirked. The good boys and girls were no doubt tucked in bed. Whistling cheerfully, he climbed the boys' staircase.

His roommates, naughty fellows, were wide-awake, sitting on chairs in the centre of the room like some Wizengamot slumber party. Sirius looked from one solemn face to the other and asked, "Who died?"

"The verdict's still out," said James. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I say _Accio chair_," he answered, turning the chair around to sit and rest his arms on the back.

Peter sniggered. Sirius grinned. James said flatly, "I lied to Evans for you, said you returned as directed. If she had caught you in the common room…"

"Pigs would fly," said Sirius, shaking his head. "Since when does Miss Early-to-bed-early-to-rise stay up late? I think she gets more sleep than Wormtail's Gran."

"No, my Gran sleeps practically round the clock since she wandered into my uncle's tsetse fly experiment." Peter shook his head sadly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Fascinating, but the point is the risk of Evan staying up to catch yours truly is slim to none."

"He has a point, James," said Remus, sounding tired. The approaching full moon was taking its toll.

Sirius gave him an appreciative smile. "See! The defence petitions all charges be dropped."

Remus gave a huff of laughter. "That doesn't change the fact that you didn't tell anyone before you went off marauding."

Siriusgroaned. "What are we, Wizard Scouts on the buddy system? I wasn't exploring the Forbidden Forest. I went for a run to the village and back."

"Did you do any pranks in the village?" asked Peter.

"No. Knocked over a few rubbish bins and chased a cat." Wormtail still looked impressed, but Moony and Prongs had parental-type disapproval written on their faces. Sirius changed tactics. Allowing his shoulders to slump, he stared at the floor and said dully, "Okay, when Evans ordered me to return to the house, she reminded me of my mother, and…I suddenly wanted to run as fast as I could, go anywhere else. Sorry."

He waited several moments before lifting a penitent gaze. Peter said, "I…I say, Padfoot, I understand completely. I don't blame you one bit for…" Cut off by Remus and James' outburst of laughter, he stared while they said,

"That's the best performance we've seen in years, don't you think, Moony?"

"No. Last term's claim to be helping a man with a sick wife and starving children was better. Padfoot had Wormtail in tears, when he was really sneaking out for Mrs. McFee's gingerbread."

Sirius let his shoulders rise and fall. "Mrs. McFee makes damn fine gingerbread."

Peter shook his head as if he'd known his friend was joking all along. When the others stopped laughing, Sirius said, "I'll leave a note next time, all right?" Relieved when his mates nodded, he sent his chair back to the desk and walked over to withdraw pyjama bottoms from his trunk.

"Don't you get cold, Padfoot?" asked Peter, climbing into his own bed across the tower room.

"No."

"I do, and you'd think with all my insulation, I'd be warm as toast."

From behind his curtains, James called out, "Just think heated thoughts of girls, Peter, and you'll be hot-blooded as Sirius in no time."

Thoughts of Rosmerta made Sirius grin. "Nobody could be more hot-blooded than me, mates." He went into the lavatory, passing Remus who was just leaving.

"Sirius."

Half turning, he said, "What?"

"Back there, amusement made me forget that there's truth in theatre. I apologise."

Sirius shrugged. "Don't. I was trying to make you laugh." When Remus started to leave, he said, "Thanks anyway, Friar Moony."

Remus smilingly made a sign of benediction. "You're very welcome, Will."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Sirius has serious issues about his mother, lol. Who wouldn't, if saddled with Walburga Black for a parent? I don't think she was always a screaming old hag, but I do think she was always nasty. The fabulous people who were nice enough to review, even with distractions like vacations, end-of-school fun, and not-so-fun exams to study for were...**40/16 **♥** AAMLrox **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Distempered**♥ **Emmas Padawan **♥ **FNP**♥ **Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **Hurley's Belial **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** Machiavelli Jr **♥** MollyCoddles **♥** NazgulGirl**♥** NewbieGK **♥ **RahNee **♥ **sunny9847**♥** Verity Weasley**♥** and **♥** Writer-In-Disguise**♥


	8. In the Moonlight

Ch. 8- In the Moonlight

-

Sirius always woke early on the morning of the full moon. Every other day he clung to his pillow and the shadowy land of dreams, but once a month, he woke without his mates' prodding. He figured it must be the excitement of knowing that he was only hours away from adventure. Whatever the reason, he awoke the moment sunlight streamed into the dorm, and hummed softly as he prepared for the day ahead.

"Oh, Lily…"

_Oh Merlin! _Sirius adjusted his tie and pulled on his robes, shaking his head to hear his best mate's mumbling in his sleep. If James ever uttered something interesting, he wouldn't mind so much, but it was always variations on a theme. Lily Evans. He rolled his eyes and slipped out of the dorm.

Halfway across the common room, Sirius heard a cheery voice exclaim, "Good Morning!"

Two girls were sitting on a sofa, obviously lying in wait. Felicity Bingley had the grace to look uncomfortable pretending she'd awakened early to have a chat with her roommate, but Jane Weston waved without an ounce of shame. He said, "Morning," and continued out of the chamber.

"You're up early!"

Sirius almost jumped out of his skin. Jane walked swiftly for a girl with short legs. Her friend was nowhere in sight. He slanted a look and grudgingly admired her doggedness. Unwilling to encourage her, he said, "Yes," and quickened his stride down the corridor.

"Aren't mornings the best time of day?" she asked, panting with the effort to keep up.

"I prefer night, actually."

"Oh, well, you certainly look wide awake this morning."

He breathed a sigh of relief to see his goal in sight. "I am now," he replied, pausing beside a door. Sirius pointed to the lavatory symbol and smiled. "Goodbye Jane."

Her determinedly chipper voice followed him into the boys' lav. "I'll see you in the Hall."

Sirius looked in the mirror. His reflection shook its head. "That girl is going to be gum, sticking to the bottom of your shoe until you manage to scrape her off."

He shrugged, ruing the day he'd turned his considerable charm on Miss Jane Weston. He snickered over his thought. Ruing the day sounded very medieval. In the mirror, his image waggled its eyebrows before holding up an imaginary sword and turning his wrist in pretended parry. "Will Scarlet makes Sheriff's men and unwanted maidens rue the day!" Sirius chuckled and came to a decision. He cracked open the door of the lav, made sure no pesky Gryffindors were waiting, and sprinted down the corridor away from the Hall.

"Wherefore art thou going?"

Sirius jogged through the Gryffindor ghost, shivering at the cold tingle that travelled through his body. "To the kitchen, Sir Nicholas."

"Is there no meal to partake of in the Hall?"

Why did Nick keep floating in front of him? Dodging to the left and then darting to the right, Sirius avoided the spectre and kept up his pace. "There is."

"Then why…"

"Never mind the why and wherefore, old chum, just float," Sirius paused to recover from yet another shudder inducing chill before saying, "to the side of me, please."

Nearly Headless Nick's gray complexion became tinged with pink. "Beg pardon, I never meant to give you the cold shoulder."

Sirius laughed. "Better you than a certain girl, Nick."

They had reached the entrance to kitchen. The apparition watched the boy reach for the 'pear' handle concealed in a mural of fruit. Sir Nicholas rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, "Your preternatural success with the fairer sex is legend amongst the castle ghosts, Mr. Black. I do hope my unintentional actions are not a portent of things to come."

A shudder jittered its way down Sirius' spine. He laughed it off. "That makes two of us. See you around."

Nick stuck his head into the kitchen to say, "Fare thee well."

Gathered around long work tables in the enormous chamber, house elves busily conjured an array of breakfast dishes. One of the workers looked up and cried, "Sirius Black is come to Flighty's kitchen!" She rushed across the room to shake his hand vigorously.

Sirius smiled affectionately at the elf he he'd met first year, when she had been deeply impressed he made his own bed to spare her the trouble.She'd spoilt him rotten ever since.

"Students is supposed to be in the Hall."

The second elf who spoke received a withering glance from Flighty. "Surly is jealous because no one is ever making their beds in Slytherin house."

"They is never coming round asking favours, neither," the gruff elf retorted.

"I only wanted to save you the bother of transporting a carafe of coffee to the Hall," Sirius told Flighty.

"Sirius Black is the most thoughtful boy ever!" Her large, round eyes glowed with affection. Surly ground his teeth. Sirius smiled innocently. If the churlish admirer resented the friendship, perhaps he needed counselling to help with that irrational jealousy. Flighty gave a wide smile. "I is off to make your coffee and breakfast too!"

"No, really, you shouldn't, I can't...oh, well, if you insist..." said the boy, watching his friend bustle off.

"Keep your socks on, wizard." The low warning brought Sirius' attention to the elf narrowing his eyes menacingly. "The rest of your clothes better stay in the trunk when they isn't on, too. You isn't a proper Black. You isn't knowing how to treat an elf!" Surly spat on the floor, muttering darkly as he stomped back to the prep table, "Makes his own bed- disgraceful!"

Was this delightful fellow a cousin of his mother's elf Kreacher? He sounded it.

Sirius grinned to see Flighty return with an enormous picnic basket. "You are an elf above all elves, deserving of the whitest, softest tea towel."

She made a shooing motion that reminded him of James' mum. "Go on with you, and make sure you is giving Remus Lupin the chocolate chip scone."

He jokingly demanded, "What's this? Favouritism? Did he make his bed?"

"Oh no, only Sirius Black is so kind to Flighty. Lupin tidied his desk."

Sirius chuckled and waved farewell. When he turned, someone made a rude noise. Elves snickered. The boy smiled when he heard a yelp and Flighty said, "Thinking a raspberry is a funny sound, is you?"

He returned to Gryffindor house, hurrying across the common room in case the Weston girl loitered in the vicinity. Sirius entered the dorm and used his wand to levitate a drop leaf table and the chairs from desks to the centre of the chamber. Placing the picnic basket on the table, he opened the lid and withdrew a carafe of coffee. With a dramatic flourish, he waved his wand to open all the bed curtains at the same time and announced, "Breakfast is served!"

Peter immediately sat up, sounding wide awake. "Any porridge?"

Sirius made a moue of distaste. "Yes, Wormtail, Flighty included a bowl of that disgusting glop you somehow manage to choke down every morning."

"Not everyone's mum made them eat oats more suitable to a stable, Padfoot," James called from his bed. "When smothered in brown sugar or honey, porridge can be quite tasty."

Peter nodded his head as he scurried over to pull out his chair. "Cream is lovely too. Is there any cream?"

"Behind the strawberries," said Sirius. He looked over at Remus' bed. Friar Moony wasn't stirring. He frowned, snatched the chocolate chip scone out of Wormtail's greedy clutches, and brought it and a mug of coffee to his friend.

"I'm not hungry."

Remus' voice was hoarse. Sirius set the items on the bedside table and crouched down. "You look the worst I've ever seen you, mate. What gives?"

A fleeting smile made Moony appear less like a tired old man. "Every year, it gets harder to fight the side effects from an imminent change."

Sirius' brow creased in puzzlement. "But the moon hasn't risen..."

"If you'd pay attention to the heavenly bodies _off _the ground, mate, you'd know the moon is always there, even when you can't see it," said James, striding over to pour himself a mug of coffee.

"_Really?_ No wonder I always cried playing Peek-A-Boo as a tot. I was so disappointed Mum hadn't really disappeared." Sirius put his hands in front of his face, pulling them apart to reveal crossed eyes to Remus. The weary chuckle he received made him smile as he rose and headed for his trunk. "Feel free to explain the concept of object permanence to Wormtail, Prongs. Perhaps that will keep him from eating my share of the scones."

"I'm not eating your...oh, maybe just the one," said Peter, before asking, "What are you looking for, Padfoot?"

Sirius lifted a flagon. "This. My neighbour gave me a few samples. It's supposed to be a cross between _Nauseous No More _and _Morning After _potions." He crossed over to Remus' bedside and held the dark green glass vial out. "Can't hurt, might help. Try it."

Over James' protests, Remus pulled out the stopper and drank the solution. He closed his eyes and shuddered.

"You alright, Moony?" Sirius enquired anxiously. Merlin only knew where Dung had 'found' those flagons. He hoped he wouldn't have to explain an accidental poisoning.

Remus opened his eyes, smiling widely. "It needs a sweetener desperately, but I feel better than I have for days. Thank you."

Sirius watched Remus take a bite of scone and grinned. "Anything for a mate."

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta was having a bad day. It started the moment she opened her eyes. A rare headache caused her temples to throb in pain, sending her in search of relief , but a hunt through her medicine cabinet came up empty. She'd forgotten to pick up a few pain-relief potions at the apothecary's last week. A peek in her father's cabinet revealed he was out as well. Ballocks.

She gritted her teeth and went downstairs to make breakfast. On impulse, she grilled mushrooms and tomatoes to serve with eggs, bacon, and toast. Humming softly, Rosmerta delivered the tray to her father, expecting him to be pleasantly surprised. Instead, he turned his head away, saying, "I'm nae hungry."

The tray was left on his side table. She left to clean the kitchen in tense silence, pausing only to rub her aching head. When the apothecary opened, Ros was the first one in the shop. She filled her shopping basket with potions.

"If your _monthly visitor_ has come, we carry another brand that relieves cramps as well," said the wizened proprietor.

Rosmerta shook her head, smiling over the delicate phrasing. "No, it's just a headache, Mr. Harris."

"Drinking too much coffee?"

"No."

"Tension headaches respond better to lifestyle changes than analgesics."

She plunked the potions down on the counter. "I get plenty of rest and exercise."

_There are other kinds of tension. _

Ros stiffened at the thought. Mr. Harris said kindly, "Being a caregiver can be very stressful. Remember to take care of your needs too."

_Hear that? I bet Sirius could take care of a few of those needs. _

She paid and thanked the man for his advice while ignoring cheeky inner voices. The moment she arrived home, Rosmerta yanked the stopper out of a flagon and chugged the potion down. She sighed in relief.

_Think of how much deeper you'd sigh after a snog. _

Such thoughts weren't helping her keep to the resolve to stay clear of men while she got her life and her relationship with her father back on track. She released a breath and went upstairs to see if Diarmid had eaten anything. He hadn't. Rosmerta took the tray down to the kitchen, wishing she had a dog to pet and feed the uneaten food.

-

The headache returned that evening, after two warlocks came in and sat at the end of the bar. She didn't recognise them, but they remembered her.

"Look at little Rosie, Will," said the brawnier one.

"All grown up, Niall."

She smiled politely. "It's Rosmerta. What can I get you?"

They chose firewhisky and seemed to compete- not only for who could drink the most, but for her attention as well. She ignored the leers and heavy handed compliments, serving the other customers with a smile. If her neck felt increasingly stiff and she thought longingly of a pain-relief potion, she didn't let it show. Rosmerta kept up the personae of cheerful barkeep until one of the men grabbed her hand.

"Who you goin' home with, beautiful? Me or Niall?"

She tried to tug her hand away. "Neither. I'm staying right here behind the bar while you gentlemen go home and sleep it off."

"Not unless you tuck one of us in."

_"I'll tuck you in, Will Cameron, but yeh might have a crooked nose after I toss yeh in head first." _

Hagrid's booming offer had a dramatic impact on the men. They stuttered their apologies and staggered out the door. Rosmerta filled a pitcher of the giant man's favourite ale and held it out with a grateful smile. "Thanks for the help. I was about to start hexing."

His laughter caused the glassware on the shelves behind her to clink together musically. "It was a pleasure." Taking a sip that emptied half the pitcher, he wiped his mouth with the back of an enormous hand and said, "How's yer Da ?"

Her shoulders lifted and fell. "He has his good days. This isn't one of them."

Beetle-black eyes were sombre. "I'm right sorry to hear tha'. Would he like a visitor tomorrow?"

Her smile wasn't feigned when Rosmerta said, "I'll ask. Thanks."

He drank the rest of the ale in a large gulp. "Again, it's my pleasure. Now I'm off to the Hogs' Head to see a man about a..." Hagrid stopped and looked around before saying, "eh, nothing, lass. I'm just off."

"Have a good night!" she called after him, wondering what illegal creature he was thinking of acquiring. Hagrid was a sweet soul, but he had a blind spot when it came to magical creatures. He thought they were all good at heart, and the monstrous ones merely misunderstood.

The headache had subsided to a band of tension around her head when Fiona walked into the pub. Her friend slid onto her usual barstool and glanced around in much the same manner Hagrid had. Furtively. Intrigued, Rosmerta fixed a drink and set it in front of the woman. "I haven't read any good books lately. Got a recommendation for me?"

Fiona threw back her drink. "Um, yes, I do. Moondancing."

Ros propped a hip against the bar. "Moondancing, huh? What's it about, some Muggle rite of drawing down the moon or dancing up the moon or something?"

"No, it's not about a religious ritual."

Rosmerta refilled her mate's drink and asked, "It's not those Maenads, is it, dancing about in wild abandon over Dionysus? They always sounded barmy to me."

"Maybe it was the tearing his enemies apart limb by limb in bacchic frenzy." Fiona laughed, shaking her head. "No, Moondancing isn't about that." She leaned forward and said in a confiding tone, "It's a celebration, not spiritual, except in the spirit of fellowship, of womanhood, of..."

"It's not a book you're talking about, is it?"

Fiona made sure no one was nearby before admitting, "No. It's a secret group of village women who started gathering a couple of months ago to...not only get out of the house, but to participate in something fun, a little wild, something that reminds us we're not just shopkeepers and mums. You'd make our number seven, a number of completeness. Interested?"

"Maybe. Who came up with this idea?"

Her friend grinned. "I read a book and got inspired, what can I say?"

Rosmerta slowly nodded. "When and where do you meet?"

" Midnight, behind Maeve Brodie's at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. There's a path leading to a faery ring. We've never actually seen a faery, but it's warm enough to dance without cloaks inside the grassy ring, and we have a great time."

Headache gone, Rosmerta said with a giggle, "It reminds me of song I heard once."

"_Dancing in the Moonlight_? Yeah, when the moon is big and bright, it is almost supernatural when everybody's dancing."

"Feeling warm and bright?"

Fiona snickered. "Out of sight, too."

They giggled. Rosmerta noticed Dorrie gesturing for help at the other end of the bar and said, "I'll be there, just tell me what to wear. We do wear clothing, don't we?"

"We're not that fine and natural a sight," quipped Fiona. She smiled. "Anything white and comfortable."

-

Hours later, Rosmerta made her way through the silent village, feeling like a teenager who had snuck out of the house to meet her friends for a little mischief. She had to press her lips together to keep from giggling nervously as she followed the other women into the forest. Tiny iridescent insects flittered along the path, lighting the way along with the glowing tip of Fiona's wand.

Once they reached the clearing bathed in moonlight, the women stepped into the grassy circle and removed their robes. It felt like spring, warm and mild. Fiona wore white gauzy trousers and a tunic top, while the rest wore flowing white dresses.

Rosmerta said as she let her cloak fall, "I went to a fancy party once with a Greek theme. This is the only white dress I've got, so I hope it's not too over-the-top."

The others laughed softly, but it wasn't in a derogatory way. Fiona just grinned and said, "Wow. I vote we all wear those next month."

Rosmerta smiled in relief when every woman raised her hand to second the motion.

-

* * *

- 

Padfoot ran down the trail, following a familiar scent.

Earlier, he had volunteered to make a reconnaissance of the forest, to ensure no village couple was out on a midnight stroll before he, Prongs, and Wormtail took their mate for a run. Although this particular werewolf didn't attack fellow animals, they weren't going to risk people's lives by allowing him to roam near humans.

There were humans in the forest tonight.

He'd caught a whiff of a scent on a strange, warm breeze the moment he'd stepped foot into the Forbidden Forest. Loping down the path toward the source of the smell, he wondered who would brave the woods at this time of night.

Feminine laughter carried on the air. His ears perked. The great black dog ran faster, until he reached a clearing. Stealthily, he padded forward. What he saw took his breath away.

Women were dancing in a circle beneath the full moon, their white skin and garments giving them an otherworldly grace and beauty. One dancer drew and held his gaze. Rosmerta. Hair down, with bare feet, she looked like a goddess in a dress that bared a shoulder and most of her legs each time she twirled and the scarves making up the bottom of her dress fluttered upwards.

He stood entranced by the way she looked and moved until the thought of his friends coming to look for him spurred the Animagus into motion. He didn't want any other male eyes seeing her like this. Swiftly, he backed away and ran full out along the path to the abandoned home villagers called the Shrieking Shack.

Inside, he shook his muzzle in response to Prong's questioning lift of his head. Wormtail squeaked in disappointment. In a corner, a gray wolf lifted his head and then lowered it to rest on his paws. Determined to make the night fun for his friends, Padfoot looked at Wormtail. The rat gave a higher pitched squeak. The dog growled and bared his teeth. Squeaking shrilly, the rat scurried off. Across the room, Prongs' hoof made a scraping sound against the wood floor as he marked off the count. When the stag stopped, the wolf rose and padded out of the room.

_Ready or not, here we come! _

-

* * *

- 

A/N: I was thinking of Captain Corcoran from _HMS Pinafore_ when I had Sirius quote "Never mind the why and wherefore", (Gilbert and Sullivan fans feel free to sing "love can level ranks, and therefore,") but Shakespeare's use of it in the _Comedy of Errors_ fits too, lol. After all, "Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme nor reason?" _Dancing in the Moonlight _is an early seventies hit that inspired when I heard it channel surfing one night. Eclectic taste is a good thing. :D Another "good thing" is readers who review! Special thanks go to...**40/16 **♥** AAMLrox **♥** alix33 **♥** Ange de l'eau **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥** dragonriderhp **♥ **Emmas Padawan **♥** Elspeth Bates **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **Hurley's Belial **♥ **ishandtwofourths**♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥** Machiavelli Jr **♥** MollyCoddles **♥** NazgulGirl **♥ **RahNee **♥** RosePoser **♥** Sirius-Rulez **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **sunny9847 **♥** Verity Weasley **♥** and **♥** Writer-In-Disguise**♥


	9. Down in Flames

Chapter 9- Down in Flames

-

"Stop tapping your fingers," ordered James, without looking up from the parchment he was scratching notes on.

Sirius began drumming his fingers instead. When his mate scowled, he grinned. "I can't help it. This day is going by so bloody _slow_."

"Hogsmeade Weekend starts tomorrow, so quit straining at the leash, you dog."

Professor Binns heard Sirius' bark of laughter and interrupted his lecture to inquire, "Do you find the carnage of goblin rebellions amusing, Mr. Black?"

Shaking his head vehemently, the boy declared, "No, Sir, I laughed only...to prevent tears due to your moving commentary."

Several classmates made coughing noises that sounded like 'gobshite', but the ghost who had fallen asleep during a fire and continued to teach after death nodded appreciatively and resumed his toneless recital.

Sirius pretended to be enthralled by the dry-as-dust material while giving James a kick in the leg.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" his mate demanded in a fierce whisper.

"For saying gobshite loudest."

James snickered. Sirius started to grin, but a note in the shape of a butterfly fluttered onto the table in front of him. He frowned. Who?

_"Mr. Black, passing notes is not allowed in this classroom." _

What rotten luck! The one day Binns pulled his spectral head out of his arse would have to be the day someone sent him a note. The professor floated over and said with a hint of regret, "Class policy must be enforced. Stand and read it aloud, Mr. Black."

The sound of his chair scraping against the stone floor was loud in the hushed silence following the teacher's pronouncement. Sirius tapped the 'butterfly' with his wand. It became a square of parchment. In an offhand tone, he read,

**You are so sensitive and caring! Do you need tissues? Would you like to read my poetry? I'll give you my notebook after class if you'd like. I've written several poems about you. They don't all rhyme, because there aren't many words that rhyme with Sirius. Just let me know, and about the tissues too. Jane.**

His voice had unconsciously become monotone by the end of the note. It was purely a defensive reaction to the snickers and stifled laughter in the classroom. He smiled thinly and looked at the girl who'd sent the note. She was blushing. Sirius said, "I don't need a tissue, and the only poems I read are limericks, so thanks but no thanks." He crumpled up the parchment and let it drop.

"All right, sit down, Mr. Black, and no more notes, Miss Weston."

After class, James shook his head and muttered, "That girl's not too bright, is she? Loads of words rhyme with Sirius."

"The poetry isn't the worst of it, mate. Weston's not getting the hint that I don't like her and never will."

James looked at him in alarm. "You're not going to be mean, are you? She's Lily's roommate."

Sirius crammed the History of Magic text inside his schoolbag. "So I allow her to stalk me, because Maid Marian won't like it if I tell her friend to go jump in the lake? I don't think so, Robin." He stormed out of the classroom and away from the Great Hall. It was lunchtime and he was hungry, but Sirius knew that his current mood would lead to a food fight. If it wasn't Hogsmeade Weekend tomorrow, he would've started one regardless of consequences, but no way was he losing privileges. He wanted to see Rosmerta more than he wanted to hit Jane Weston in the face with a pie.

In the kitchen, an elf saw him enter and rushed over, clasping her hands together in joy. "Sirius Black is returning to see Flightie!"

He gave her a puppy-dog look. "D'you suppose I could eat lunch in here, someplace out of the way?"

His melancholy half-smile received one filled with sympathy and affection. "This way, young master."

Sirius felt a twinge of guilt over his manipulation. With quiet sincerity, he said, "Please call me Sirius, Flightie. That's what friends do."

Her big green eyes became shiny. "Sirius and Flightie is friends?"

The boy nodded. "I could use a friend's company. Have you eaten lunch?"

They sat at a small, rickety table in a far corner of the kitchen. Surly decided to wait on them, but he did it grudgingly. The elf slammed down two bottles of pumpkin juice and sneered at the thanks he received. Sirius' eyes widened when the elf then dropped to his hands and knees and stuck his head under the table.

"What is you doing?" Flightie demanded.

The elf rose and gave the boy a malevolent glare. "Making sure his socks is on."

"Oh Surly," The elf shook her head, but her voice was soft.

When her churlish admirer stomped off to fetch sandwiches, Sirius said, "I don't recall him giving me the evil eye before. Is this romance a new development?"

Tennis ball shaped eyes bugged in their sockets. "Romance?"

He smiled at her wondering tone. "Yeah, romance. Surly has a thing for you. Couldn't you tell by his jealousy?"

Flightie fell out of her chair laughing. It sounded like bells pealing and was very infectious. Sirius chuckled to hear it. The elf returning with the food dropped the plates onto the table with a clatter and hissed, "Disgraceful!"

All traces of humour vanished as Flightie stared after Surly. She returned to her seat and told the boy watching interestedly, "But you is so ugly!" He laughed out loud. She smiled, ducking her head. "I is not meaning ugly for a _human_."

He grinned. "My ears are too small for you?" Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius caught Surly watching and impulsively used a transfiguration spell. "There. Now am I good looking?"

Flightie covered her mouth with both hands to hide a smile as she shook her head. "No."

He wiggled the tips of his bat-like ears, teasing, "C'mon, I patterned these on Grumpy's over there. You've got to think they're handsome."

"The ears is most handsome, but the rest of you is not," Flightie said with a wide grin.

"Thank you," said Surly, stepping forward to offer more pumpkin juice.

Sirius was intrigued to learn elves blushed. "You is welcome," Flightie whispered.

The boy stood and wrapped his sandwich in a serviette, saying, "I totally forgot that I don't have my text for my next class. I'd better go back to the dorm and get it." Sirius tucked a bottle of pumpkin juice under his arm. "Thanks for lunch, and especially for the company, Flightie. I'll see you later."

He left the pair looking at each other shyly. Sirius mentally patted himself on the back for matchmaking and headed toward Gryffindor house. The corridors were mostly empty, but he passed a few students who stared at him rudely. He merely smiled in return. When they continued to gape, he shrugged. So he ate as he walked. He wasn't chewing with his mouth open or allowing salad to fall to the floor. What was the big deal?

Inside the Gryffindor common room, a lone boy sat on a sofa. He had a guilty look on his face. Sirius said, "Did you draw the short quill to come talk to me?"

Peter startled and then stared. "Erm...no...I volunteered."

Sirius flopped into a chair across from his friend and said around another bite of sandwich, "So what's the long face for?"

"I got hungry waiting for you, so I ate the sandwich I was supposed to save."

"As you can see, I have one, so don't give it another thought."

"Oh, thanks…here…I didn't eat your biscuit."

There was a bite missing, though. Sirius said, "Go ahead, have it," and then demanded, "Why are you gawking at me? Do I have mustard on my chin?"

Through a mouthful of chocolate chip, Peter mumbled, "No...Your ears..."

"I have mustard on my _ears?" _Sirius brought his hand up and abruptly realised what Peter meant. Laughing, he transfigured his ears back to normal. "Maybe I should've kept them. They might've turned Weston off."

"No, they wouldn't. Jane really, _really_, likes you."

Sirius was glad he'd finished eating before hearing that. It would've ruined his appetite. He groaned. "Stars and stones, how am I going to get rid of her?" The shifty look on Peter's face made him sit up straight. "Don't tell me you think I should allow that bird to keep on twittering? She's _gum_!" Nodding at the look of startled comprehension in the other boy's eyes, Sirius said, "It happens every year. I don't want it to happen, but some girls are on the mental side, and they stick like gum. Say you'll help me scrape her off, mate."

"I will, but...not until after Hogsmeade Weekend." Peter wrung his podgy hands in agitation. "It...It's Moony and Prongs, Padfoot. Dorcas says Lily will go along with the group to Hogsmeade if you'll come too. Jane begged her."

Sirius stood and began pacing back and forth; using every foul word he could think of in every language he knew. He even grunted a few pithy phrases in Goblin.

"Does...does that mean you'll do it?" said Peter.

He nodded bitterly. "I'll go along, but I'm not going to be paired with Jane." Smiling evilly, he said, "I'm going to have you between us at all times. Walking, sitting, chatting, even _breathing..._you're going to be the one dealing with her, not me. Got it?"

Peter nodded. "I got it, and I don't mind. I…I like Jane."

Sirius clapped his mate on the shoulder. "Wormtail, you sneaky rat! Why didn't you tell me before? We'll have to see what we can do about that."

"We will?"

Sirius' smile was determined. "_We will."_

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta walked through the village, waving to shopkeepers and enjoying the calm before the swarm of Hogwarts students descended. As she passed the apothecary's, Mr. Harris exited the shop and called, "May I have a word with you madam?"

It was a jolt, hearing that term. She was twenty-one, not forty-one! Ros knew it was her running of the pub that earned the title, not her age, but still. She felt old, thinking of herself as _Madam Rosmerta_. She laughed softly at her vanity. "Of course, Mr. Harris." She walked toward the shop, asking, "What can I do for you?"

He waved her inside. "I need a young person's opinion."

She beamed at him. "I'll give it gladly."

The white-haired wizard patted her arm. "Thank you. Now, what do you think about this display? I thought it might appeal to the youngsters from Hogwarts."

Jars of complexion creams and hair products were shelved with tins of whitening and freshening mints and a variety of pink and blue flagons. Rosmerta said, "You might want to break the display up into two sections. The practical items on the lower shelves, perhaps with _Teen Witch _and _World Quidditch Magazine_ between…what is in these flagons?"

"Love potions. Pink for girls, blue for boys."

After suppressing thoughts of lust-crazed chaos at Hogwarts, Rosmerta asked, "Erm…are these _allowed_ at the school?"

Mr. Harris made a sound like a dry cough. It was laughter. "They do not entrance or have aphrodisiacal components, my dear girl. They are for," he picked up a flagon and peered at it closely to read, "_entertainment purposes only." _

A vivid image of Sirius Black unbuttoning his shirt while murmuring, 'Let me entertain you, let me make you smile,' made her cheeks feel hot.

The Apothecary misunderstood her blush. "Do not be embarrassed at the mistake." He winked. "In all honesty, I hope a vast majority of students make the same assumption. The flagons might be my best seller!"

"What do the potions do?" she asked curiously.

His pale gaze twinkled. "They tint the complexion when the user comes into proximity with a person they either love, or have the potential to fall in love with."

She couldn't help laughing. The idea of a Great Hall full of pink and blue cheeked students looking round with wide eyes was hilarious. "Oh…my…stars!" she gasped.

Mr. Harris smiled and began re-arranging his display as she walked toward the door. "Very entertaining, wouldn't you say?"

-

The wildflowers had long since faded, and the autumnal foliage wasn't yet adding more than a splash of colour to the landscape, but Rosmerta enjoyed being outdoors. She loved the pub, but it got confining, and the air wasn't always the freshest. As many times as she reminded old timers there was no smoking pipes, someone always forgot. She looked up and smiled. The sun, peeking out from behind a cloud, was something else she missed working behind a bar.

_"Good morning, Miss Rosmerta!"_

She turned to face the Wizard Scout troop marching up the path behind her. With a smile, she greeted the boys and their leader, asking, "What brings you intrepid explorers out so early?"

Hamish MacInnes grinned. "Mrs. McFee bribed us to gather Willow-herb."

Rosmerta thought he looked very nice in his uniform, but she had to ask, "You don't wear shorts any more?"

The wizard looked down at his mushroom coloured trousers and dark green long-sleeve shirt. "No, that's summer gear. Why?"

"No reason, I just told Fiona...never mind..."

Red eyebrows rose, but he didn't question her further. Thank Merlin. 'I told Fiona to check out your legs' would not have been good for the troop to hear. They would've told their parents.

"Can she help us find Willow-herb?" asked Robbie, a boy whose angelic curls contrasted with a mischievous nature

Hamish nodded. "Sure, I think Mrs. McFee will have made enough gingerbread for _two_ troops."

"And chocolate chip biscuits," added another boy. The nod he gave caused his beret to tilt.

Instinctively, Rosmerta reached out and straightened the headgear. "Not partial to gingerbread Kenneth?"

"No, I like chocolate."

She smiled. "I like chocolate _and_ gingerbread. Think she'd let me have both?"

The boys all nodded. The big boy did too. She walked with Hamish at the rear of the group and waited until the scouts were chatting to ask, "That remark about two troops seemed pointed, or was I imagining things?"

Blue eyes were rueful. "I asked Fiona if her girls would care to join us. She said she'd rather be well rested than be prepared." He smiled. "_Be well rested_ isn't the WitchGuide motto, is it?"

Rosmerta liked his sense of humour. If she could get her mate to hang round the man long enough, Fiona might do more than like it. "I don't think so, but I can't say for sure. I never got involved in that kind of thing."

"Why not?"

"Mum thought it beneath me. Like I was a princess or something." She shook her head before saying dryly, "Princess of the pub."

Hamish laughed. Rosmerta became determined to do some matchmaking. He said, "It's never too late to join Scouting. You could help Fiona with her troop."

"Get the girls outdoors," she mused aloud.

"I'd...they'd enjoy that," he said, before clearing his throat and calling, "Troop halt, and that means you too, Jamie lad." Striding forward to put his hand on the shoulder of the ten-year-old who'd seemed ready to leave the trail, Hamish asked, "How do we identify _Epilobium Parviflorum_?"

Jamie said confidently, "By the ovate, toothed leaves and the seeds terminated by a tuft of long, silky hairs."

Rosmerta felt a tug on the leg of her tracksuit trousers. "We like to blow the fluff and watch the seeds fly away," said the youngest boy, Andrew. Both his front teeth were missing. She bet he could spit incredible distances.

"What does Mrs. McFee use it for?" she asked.

"Dunno." Andrew shrugged.

Hamish said, "There are several medicinal benefits, but Mrs. McFee uses Willow-herb to make an ointment to soothe skin problems. With this lot, I carry some at all times."

"Do you help her make the ointment?"

He nodded and returned to directing the boys in gathering the plant. Rosmerta bent to help Andrew, thinking Natalie and her fellow WitchGuides would enjoy helping.

-

Hours later, the acting manager of the _Three Broomsticks_ smilingly denied a student firewhisky and served him a butterbeer instead. The pub was packed. Dorrie, who had been a seventh year Hufflepuff last term, greeted her former classmates with an appropriately sunny smile.

Rosmerta looked up every time the door jangled. She tried not to and told herself she wasn't going to encourage him so she should hope he didn't show, but it was no use. Her gaze constantly wandered to the entrance.

"Order up!"

Callum's gravelly voice brought her attention to the tray levitating toward her. Ros took the food and distributed the plates to the waiting customers.

"Could...could you send these orders, please?" asked Dorrie.

The girl had a massive crush on the artist who worked as their short-order conjurer on weekends. She couldn't speak in more than a whisper whenever he was around. Rosmerta hid a smile and said, "Sure." She sent the tickets to the kitchen with a flick of her wand and a cheery, "Scradge down!"

When she turned to take another order, the jangle of the doorbells brought drew her attention to the group entering. There were three girls and four boys. The last boy to stroll inside was Sirius Black.

"I wanted a fizzy drink, not a butterbeer."

The heart-pounding reaction she'd had when Sirius looked at her and smiled had scattered her wits! She apologised to the customer and reached in the coolant cabinet for a bottle.

"I'd like a butterbeer," said a Slytherin boy.

Rosmerta handed him the tankard she'd mistakenly drawn. "On the house." He looked down his hooked nose at her. She remembered that expression. Jonathan had called Snape a useful git, but she'd felt sorry for him. Those whose favour he'd curried hadn't been his friends anymore than they'd been hers. She asked with a smile, "Did you ever work out the kinks in that levitation hex?"

He looked astounded that she remembered and then smirked. "Yes." Abruptly, he nodded curt thanks and skulked off with the butterbeer.

A burst of laughter from a back table caught her attention. She watched Sirius Black rise and bow to his friends before heading toward the bar. Fluttery feelings warred with panic for supremacy. Panic won out. She tore her eyes away and began filling orders, silently chanting, _stay away from me, please, for the love of Merlin, stay away!_

-

* * *

- 

They'd Cerberus dog-dared him. What was he supposed to do? Roll over and play dead? Sirius had to go through with it, even though his stomach was tied in knots and he had a bad feeling about the whole thing. As he strolled toward Rosmerta, he thought that if she'd put up her hair to seem more professional, it was a wasted effort. Upswept curls just made him want to pull out the pins and watch them tumble down.

He edged out the Ravenclaw Keeper for a spot at the bar. When Rosmerta turned her eyes his way, Sirius momentarily forgot what he'd been about to say and then stammered, "Seven butterbeers, six ham sandwiches, one rare roast beef- no salad, five packets of crisps and..."

She sent his order winging toward the kitchen. "Anything else?"

Her tone was impersonal, her expression indifferent. He hoped she was putting on a front because it was now or never. He took a breath and tried to wield some 'Black Magic' with a charming smile. "Have you heard the one about the Hag, the Healer, and the..."

"Mimbelous Mimbletonia? Unfortunately yes, I have, many times. Why?"

Sirius felt like a Quidditch player hit with an _Incendio._ He was going down in flames. "Just...curious..."

She turned to serve another customer with a smile that had been conspicuously lacking during their interaction. He watched her intently and found small consolation in the faint tremble of her fingers and the slight blush on her cheeks.

_"Order up!" _

Rosmerta took the tray and held it out to him. "I put a rush on it, since you seemed...hungry."

The way she stumbled over the final word and looked momentarily stricken didn't make the way she'd slapped him down any easier to take. He shook his head. "I lost my appetite."

Back at the table, his mates were enjoying themselves hugely at his expense.

"Finally, a woman who doesn't take him seriously," James crowed.

"She didn't even smile," said Peter.

Remus said, "In all fairness, that joke is as old as Godric Gryffindor."

Sitting between her friends on the other side of the table, Dorcas smiled. "Perhaps older."

Sirius shoved the tray into James' hands and took a seat beside Peter. He smiled thinly when Jane said fervently, "I would have laughed. You can make anything amusing."

"Not a tired old joke, apparently," said Lily. Her choice of words reminded him of his mother. The girl's tone wasn't mocking, but he shot her a dark look anyway. Miss High-and-Mighty recoiled slightly and turned to the boy sitting at her right, asking,"Did your wound heal up?" James nodded dumbly, showing her his hand. She held it up for examination and smiled. "It looks all better...James."

His best mate's face lit up. "Thanks to you...Lily."

Sirius stood up. "Although I hate to eat and run, ladies, it was a pleasure and gents, I'll see later."

"But you didn't eat," said Peter.

"Figure of speech, mate. I got the sandwich for you. Enjoy."

He waved off Jane's plea to stay and his friends' looks of concern, striding out of the pub with only a single glance at Rosmerta before he closed the door behind him. She was watching him with a troubled gaze. Did she regret turning him down cold? He hoped so.

Sirius thought about visiting Mrs. McFee, but didn't want to take his black mood out on her. He decided a visit to Hagrid and a long ride through the Forbidden Forest would serve him better.

It didn't.

Several hours later, his identity concealed by a hood, Sirius sat at a back corner table in the _Hog's Head_ tavern. With a bitter smile, he lifted his tumbler of firewhisky in a silent toast to the fickleness of women and motioned the barkeep for another round.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: I'd thought this chap would be the first kiss chap, but the characters had other plans, lol, so next chap will be _the _chap, and if those who read my RLNT fics wonder if Sirius and Tonks have inebriated qualities in common...you'll see. :D The readers who had in common making me smile with their reviews were...♥** AAMLrox **♥** alix33 **♥** Ange de l'eau **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥** dragonriderhp **♥ **Emmas Padawan **♥** Elspeth Bates **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **Hurley's Belial **♥ **ishandtwofourths**♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥** MollyCoddles **♥** petiteloupegarou **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **sunny9847 **♥** Verity Weasley**♥** Wotcher Wolvie **♥ **Writer-In-Disguise **♥ **and **♥** Writer Merrin **♥


	10. From the Ashes

Chapter 10- From the Ashes

-

Somewhere after midnight, Sirius decided to forgive Rosmerta. Firewhisky that initially fanned the flames of anger eventually numbed the sting of her rejection and reminded him of the intensity of their attraction. Compassion took the place of resentment as the memory of lovely, stricken features filled his mind. Rosmerta had obviously regretted her harshness. She might even be crying herself to sleep!

While the other patrons of the Hog's Head talked in furtive whispers or hunched sullenly over their drinks, the cloaked boy sat up straight and grinned beneath his hood. He'd just had the most brilliant idea. He would go and offer Rosmerta his forgiveness in person. Dry her tears.

There was one pressing need he had to take care of first.

Carefully making his way to the men's lavatory, Sirius braced himself in the doorway. The lav was filthy. He shrugged. It didn't smell half as bad as it looked. He walked forward and peered at the walls more closely. Was that blood? Sirius' gaze transferred to the spattered floor. A beetle darted across tile and scurried underneath the lone stall. He grimaced when a crunching sound was heard, followed by the sound of chewing.

He took care of business as quickly as possible, wishing he'd gone outside in the bushes. Not wanting to meet whoever or whatever found beetles tasty; he backed out of the lavatory and headed for the exit.

Outside, Sirius looked up at the stars and saluted his counterpart, the brightest star in the Northern sky. He squinted. At least he _thought _the star he was contemplating was the Dog Star. He raised a hand to help trace the outlines of Canis Major with his outstretched finger. Didn't look much like one of Orion's hunting dogs to him, but his vision was a tad blurry from all the tavern smoke.

He strolled leisurely through deserted streets. Although Sirius wanted to see Rosmerta badly, he didn't have enough energy to jog, much less transform and run. A song drifted through his mind, causing him to snicker before altering the words to suit.

"_Rosmerta, you got me on my knees, Rosmerta..."_

In the back garden of a nearby cottage, a dog barked. Sirius flashed a vulgar hand gesture. "Ev'rybody's a critic." He snickered before crooning softly, "Rosmerta, won't you ease my worried mind."

Whistling the tune, he continued on, thinking the problem had been her foolish pride. She'd been too proud to admit she fancied him, but his generous pardon was sure to ease her fears about what the villagers would say. He chuckled. Wouldn't he love to hear her begging _darling please_?

He'd even do some begging of his own. The image of them pleading each other for more kisses kept Sirius humming contentedly until he reached the Broomsticks. He tried to check the time and scowled. His watch was a goblin knock-off, but he'd never had a problem engaging the luminescence button before. He decided the time didn't matter.

Sirius went round the back.

The thought that Rosmerta might be asleep never occurred to him. Sirius was sure she was crying into her pillow, in need of comfort. He picked up some gravel and waved his wand over it to send it seeking her window. It made an impressive clatter.

She didn't throw up the sash. Instead, he caught a glimpse of a pale face through the closed pane. He frowned. Did she think he'd mind a pink nose and puffy eyes?

He used a Sonorous charm to call, "Ros-mer-ta…Ros-mer-ta!"

Up went the sash. Rosmerta leaned out. "Shhh…What are you doing here?"

Sirius was enjoying the view of creamy skin exposed by a camisole. Mischievously, he held a hand up to his ear. As he'd hoped, she leaned down to say in a spell-amplified voice, "I know you can hear me. Why aren't you at school?"

"I need to talk to you."

She shook her head. "No you don't. Go back to Hogwarts."

"Not until you talk to me. I can stand here all night."

"Then stand there!"

Sirius blinked in disbelief as she ducked back inside and shut the window. His voice was less persuasive and more indignant when he called, "_Ros-mer-ta!"_

The sash was lifted so quickly, she must've been standing right beside it. He grinned when Rosmerta said, "Fine! I'll come down, but you have to say whatever it is you came to say and then leave. Deal?"

The hand he'd meant to put on his heart ended up on his collarbone. "Deal!"

She sighed audibly and withdrew into her bedroom once more. Waiting for her to let him into the kitchen, Sirius decided to check his breath. The smell made him frown. He dug into his pocket and withdrew a couple of brushing/flossing mints. After chewing , he breathed into his cupped palm and smiled at the scent of minty freshness.

The sound of a door opening brought his gaze to the woman standing beneath the torchlight. Rosmerta looked so pretty with her hair down, wearing a silky robe. Sirius forgot what he'd come there to say. All he could remember was how much he wanted to be with her.

Her eyes widened as he strode eagerly into the kitchen. "Would you like some coffee, or a sober-up potion?"

He laughed. "What makes you think I'm plastered?"

A delicate eyebrow rose. He reached out and traced it with a fingertip. She said, "Besides throwing rocks at a woman's window in the middle of the night? You smell like a tavern."

Sirius brought a fold of his cloak up for a sniff and grimaced. "You're right. Pipe smoke is foul!" He tossed the offending garment onto the back of a chair, waving his wand to neutralise the scent. "I learnt this one after McGonagall gave me detention for smoking when I don't even like the smell of cigars, much less the taste."

"I didn't think this was your first jaunt to the Hog's Head."

He snickered at her dry tone before lifting his arm to take a whiff. Not bad, but not elf-laundered either.

"What are you doing?"

Her voice sounded funny, high and thin. He chuckled and began to lift the hem of his tee.

-

* * *

- 

Why had she gone to the window? Once there, why had she attempted to reason with a charming drunk instead of firmly ordering him to stagger back to school? Rosmerta sighed. For the same reason she allowed him to take off his shirt. Sirius was hard to resist.

She tried not to stare at his chest. It wasn't overly muscular, but Merlin it was finely sculpted! Dark eyes glinted with knowing amusement as she said, "Put that right back on."

Sirius grinned, wilfully misunderstanding. "Don't worry, I'm not cold."

_No, you're hot…_ Rosmerta tried not to let the thought show on her face while she said, "I refuse to hold a conversation with an undressed man, so hurry up and complete that spell."

He said laughingly, "I'm not undressed! I'm wearing trousers. Boxers too…or maybe briefs… Hold on, I'll check."

Pulse spiking alarmingly, Rosmerta pried Sirius' fingers away from his belt. "No! I'll take your word."

His hand clasped hers. "You can take a lot more than that."

She laughed nervously. Pulling away, Rosmerta said, "You need coffee or tea or…" _Me… _She shook her head. No, she was not on offer, and why hadn't he put his shirt back on?

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay I'll have a drink."

He was standing too close. She said, "Which?"

"Which, what?"

"Which do you prefer, coffee or tea?"

Sirius asked smilingly, "Which tastes better to you?"

"Tea, but…"

"Tea it is, then."

Rosmerta moved toward the Aga, engaging the charm to heat the kettle. She fumbled with the tea canister. Sirius sauntered over to watch her, making her even more jumpy. His tone of voice, when he'd asked her which drink tasted better, kept echoing in her mind. It insinuated he wanted to make sure she enjoyed the flavour of his kisses.

She stiffened. There was going to be no kissing! She glanced sideways while pouring hot water onto the leaves. No seventeen-year-old boy should look so mature. It wasn't fair to twenty-one-year-old women! Distracted, Rosmerta splashed hot water onto her hand.

Sirius grabbed the kettle and set it aside, steering her to the kitchen sink. "Cold water's what you need. Here you go."

He stood behind her, arms around her to hold her hand beneath the stream of water. Rosmerta closed her eyes. Without a shirt, the heat of his body sank into hers. Even after her skin stopped hurting, she stayed where she was, telling herself the cold water would cool heated thoughts.

"Better now?"

He sounded on the verge of laughter. She stepped sideways, reaching for a cloth to dry her hands. "Yes, thank you. I hope your tea isn't too…erm…"

"Cold?" he said teasingly. Sirius took a sip, reached for the sugar and added another cube, smiling, as he said, "No, its fine."

He looked far too at home leaning a hip against her counter, sipping tea, shirtless. She had to take charge of the situation. Marching over to the table, Rosmerta picked up his tee and extended it. "For the last time, get dressed."

He put it on, asking, "Why so upset about a little skin?"

It wasn't fair that he could smirk and look adorable. She said, "You know why."

"Because you're older than me and think you shouldn't be attracted to a _schoolboy?"_

Stars and stones he was blunt. She decided to be direct too. "Yes."

Long strands of hair fell into his face as he shook his head. "Pardon my French, but that's shite. You're only a few years older, and I won't be in school much longer."

Rosmerta put her hands on her hips. "Fine, chat me up next July."

He grinned. "You'd go out with me then?"

She stared. Her quip had been sarcastic, but the more she thought about it… "Well, I wouldn't be dating a boy from Hogwarts, so my father wouldn't die of shame from my scandalising the village yet again," Rosmerta said with forced lightness. "It wouldn't send the message that I'm available for any boy to try his luck, either."

"Is that a yes?"

Only Grimmy had a more soulful look. "Yes, but…" She tried to say she didn't expect him to wait, that he should find someone at school, but the words wouldn't come. Her stomach felt tied in knots. Oh Hades, she didn't want him to be with someone else!

His smile widened into one of such charm, she couldn't help smiling back until Sirius said, "I can't let you miss out on months of my company." He took a step toward her. "We'll just have to sneak around 'till then."

Silly heroines in novels were always forgetting to breathe, as if they had some kind of romantic apnea. Rosmerta had never felt her breath catch and hold…before now. She exhaled harshly, repeating, "Sneak around?"

"Yeah."

"Sirius, you're drunk."

"Am I?" he mused, before smiling roguishly. "Drunk from drinking in your beauty and grace…"

"Rubbish," she interjected with a reluctant smile. "Drunk from cheap firewhisky."

Unabashed, he grinned. "How could you tell?" Sirius pointed to the table. "M'cloak? Did I spill some?" He answered his own question. "Probably happened when I toasted you for the fifth time…with a flourish..." He demonstrated. It was quite elaborate. She could imagine whisky sloshing out.

"Sirius, I don't think…"

"Don't think," he said, stepping closer. "Don't be sensible."

"That's easy for you to say."

His smile faded. "No it isn't. My mates and I keep a lot of secrets, but not from each other. I'd have to sneak around as much as you."

"That's why we shouldn't do it. We'd have to lie…"

"Lies of omission…hurting no one…and we'd tell them in July," said Sirius.

His tone and expression were so persuasive. She closed her eyes. "I'm not giving in just because you turn puppy-dog-eyes on me, Sirius Black."

"Do you like dogs?"

"Yes."

"More than cats?"

She opened her eyes to see his hopeful expression. "Yes, why?"

He grinned. "You could say I'm a dog person."

Rosmerta shook her head. "So we both like dogs. That doesn't mean we should be together, and besides…" She looked away, so it would be easier to admit, "I've made too many mistakes when comes to men. I can't afford to make another one."

Sirius' fingers brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. "Give us a chance. It won't be a mistake."

She looked him in eyes to ask, "How can you possibly know that?"

His smile was slow and sweet. "I feel it."

-

* * *

- 

Sirius wasn't exactly sober, but he knew when a girl had changed her no to a yes. It was the way Rosmerta's face and eyes softened and relaxed. She had stopped fighting her feelings. His only problem was deciding what to do about it.

"What are we going to do?"

Funny she asked that, he'd just thought the same thing. Sirius saw an envelope on the kitchen table and said, "We could write each other."

"What? Be pen friends?"

He nodded earnestly. The idea was inspired. "I can find out all about you, and you can ask me anything."

She looked sceptical. "Anything?"

"Anything. I might not tell you the answer, but you can always ask." He laughed heartily at his joke.

Rosmerta put her fingers to his lips. "Be quiet. I put a muting charm on the room, but I don't know how long it will last." He kissed her fingers. She pulled them back and said, "I wouldn't want to sign my name on a letter."

"So don't put your name on it, and I won't either." He smiled widely. "We'll each know who they're from."

She smiled almost shyly. "You do make quite an impression."

He wanted to impress her with his snogging technique, but was afraid to push for too much, too soon. Instead, he replied. "So do you."

Her cheeks were turning pink. "Erm…it's getting late."

Sirius joked, "No, it's early…in the morning."

Rosmerta said, "You should get back to school. I'll write soon."

He watched her walk towards the back door and asked, "May I have a kiss goodnight?"

She bit her lip. "It's morning."

He admired her big blue eyes, but wished she didn't act so nervous. Sirius was beginning to feel tense too. He moved nearer. "A kiss good morning, then?" When she hesitated, he said, "A little one?"

Sirius edged closer until he was directly facing Rosmerta. She whispered, "What do you mean by a _little_ one?"

He gave her what she'd called puppy-dog-eyes. "Lips only."

"No touching?"

Sirius raised his hands to cradle her face. "A little."

"All right."

His heart pounded to see her lips part. Resisting the urge to kiss her the way he had in fantasies, Sirius kissed Rosmerta the way Wilkes likely never had- tenderly. He brushed his lips against hers before softly rubbing and parting her mouth. Her lips moved against his slowly, as if it had been a long time since she'd been kissed.

Sirius vowed to kiss her well and often, but right now; he was determined to make this kiss, their first kiss, unforgettable. Although he wanted to explore her mouth, Sirius restrained himself to her lips, enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his fingers, her mouth pressed to his. Every time he was tempted to deepen the kiss, he imagined her pulling back, and kept his kisses gentle.

Eventually, his restraint snapped. Wayward fingers slid into her hair while his tongue traced her bottom lip. When she pulled back, he let her go. With a rueful smile, he said, "Technically, that was lips only."

Rosmerta's cheekbones were tinted pink and her eyes were shining. She said, "If you didn't need to get back to school, I'd be returning the favour."

He knew he was grinning like a bloody fool and didn't care. "Really?"

She walked over to the kitchen table and picked up his cloak. "Yes, really, now go."

Sirius chuckled. "Here's your cloak, what's your hurry?"

Rosmerta's smile made him feel like he could float back to school. When he told her so, she laughed softly. "Thank you, I feel the same way. When you drift out the door, I'll float upstairs."

He snickered over the mental image of them walking on air. Sighing deeply, he walked to the door. She kissed him on the cheek. "If you stop turning sad puppy-dog eyes on me, I promise to send an owl before I go to bed."

He was all smiles again. "Yeah? Ace!" Immediately, he wished he'd sounded less like a second year. Not up for thinking more eloquently, Sirius kissed her soundly on the lips and backed away, grinning. She shook her head, smiling, and shut the door. He waited, and when he saw Rosmerta's face at the window, he blew her a kiss.

Once he'd walked down the road and out of eyesight, Sirius, energised by the kiss, transformed and ran back to Hogwarts. After sneaking through the shadowy corridors, he approached the Fat Lady. "_Artem experientia fecit_."

"Wh…what? Who goes there?" the painting stammered, awakened from her 'slumber.'

He repeated the password, adding, "If _practice makes perfect, _one day your voice will ring to the heavens."

The painted lady, whose voice was less than melodic, preened. "What a fine ear you have, young man. Scamper off to bed, now. You wouldn't want a _black _mark against you in Professor McGonagall's books."

He chuckled. "No, fair lady, I would not."

Giggling, she allowed him to enter.

Inside the common room, he saw a lumpish figure on the sofa nearest the main fireplace and strolled over to shake the sleeper's shoulder. "Peter, wake up."

"Huh? Wha? Sirius? Is that you?" the boy said blearily, sitting up.

"Yes. Why are you down here? Did you draw the short quill?"

Peter nodded. "I always draw the short quill."

Sirius pulled his friend to his feet and clapped him on the shoulder. "You're the only one I'd want to wait up, so thanks, mate."

"Really?" asked Peter, as they walked upstairs.

"Of course- you're the only one who doesn't give me hell."

The boys snickered together, with Peter whispering as they approached the room, "I wish I had your nerve."

"Maybe I'll give you a remedial course in _serious _boldness," said Sirius, laughing at the pun.

"Shhh! We don't want to wake them," said Peter. He looked at his friend more closely. "Have you been drinking? James said he'd bet a galleon you went straight to the Hog's Head, but Remus wouldn't do it- said the odds were against him."

Sirius heard the despondent tone. He shook his head. "Damn, Peter, you took the bet?"

"Yeh."

"Well, don't do it again, and I'll pay, since you waited up."

"Thanks Sirius!"

Sirius said laughingly, "Shhh! Remember, we don't want to wake them!"

-

He awoke the next day to a pounding head and queasy stomach.

"Here, take a dose of your own medicine."

Sirius cracked open an eye to see the flagon Remus offered. "How bad does that stuff taste?" he asked.

"Can't be worse than the inside of your mouth right now," said Remus.

"That bad? I don't give a toss. Give it here." Sirius took the potion and pulled the stopper. He chugged the contents and then fell back against the pillows, both hands at his throat. "Aaahhh!"

"Drink this," said James.

Sirius took the goblet and drank the fizzy, lemony-smelling water. The first potion's acidic burn settled instantly. Sighing in relief, he said, "Thanks." He looked at Remus and said, "How did you manage to smile after taking that?"

"We gave you a double dose."

"Thanks again…you bastards."

His friends laughed. Peter asked, "Does anyone want to go have breakfast in the Hall?"

"I will," said Sirius. He could hardly wait to read Rosmerta's letter.

James stared incredulously. "You never leave the dorm before noon on Sundays."

"Never say never," Sirius said with a grin. "Didn't you think Evans would never call you by your first name again?"

A goofy smile spread across James' face. "Yeah." He said, "You should've stayed. We had a great time."

"Good. You can tell me all about it on the way to the Hall, but right now, I need a shower." Sirius bounded out of bed and went to his trunk to gather clothes. Beneath the spray, he sang, _"Please don't say, we'll never find a way…"_

-

* * *

- 

A/N: The title came from a song in the film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang- _From the ashes of disaster, grow the roses of success!_Anyone imagining Sirius singing like Eric Clapton- I salute your taste in music and your imagination! Rosmerta, Layla, both women who turned their guys' worlds upside down, LOL. If any readers of my R/T fic noted a similarity in inebriated behaviour between cousins, yay, I hoped you would, and tip my hat. (a Musketeer one, with a big feather!) The reviewers who made my week even better were…...♥** 40/16 **♥** AAMLrox **♥** alix33 **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Elspeth Bates **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **Hurley's Belial **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** jq93 **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥** Libeku Taganashi **♥** MagicalMischiefMakersInc **♥** MollyCoddles **♥** Mrs. SIrius Black **♥** RahNee **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113**♥** Sophia Loren **♥ **sunny9847 **♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon **♥** Writer-In-Disguise **♥ **and **♥** Writer Merrin **♥


	11. Grow the Roses

Chapter 11- Grow the Roses

-

In the Great Hall, Sirius watched owls swoop down to deliver mail to students, reaching for his own letter with eager hands. He pushed aside breakfast and ripped open the envelope.

"Who's your pen friend, Sirius?" Peter asked.

Without looking up from the parchment he was re-reading, Sirius replied, "What did I say the last time you asked?"

"I asked you before?"

"Several times."

"Uh…a girl you met over holiday?"

Sirius folded his letter. "Besides that."

Peter's expression turned shifty. "Er…I can't remember."

"Don't hex him for asking what we all want to know," said James.

Sirius looked from James to Remus. "You want to know too, Friar Moony?"

Remus said, "You've gone from having to be dragged out of bed to leaping out in order to get to the Hall in time for owl delivery, so yes, I'm curious."

Sirius tossed the letter onto the table. "Fine, whoever wants to read can go right ahead."

James' hand shot out and snagged the parchment. "I'll do it."

"Aloud?" said Peter.

Sirius' shrug was all the permission James needed. He cleared his throat and read,

**B,**

"Why is she calling you B?" asked James.

Peter said, "Is it short for Baby?"

"Perhaps we'll find out in the _letter_," Remus gently prodded.

Sirius smiled mysteriously as James continued,

**I got that Astronomy book you recommended. Now I know how to find your star, although I should've known all along. It's the brightest, and all the other stars pale in comparison.**

His friends snickered. Sirius shrugged. James read on,

**I'd heard the myth of Orion's hunting dogs, but hadn't know in Greek Seirios meant 'the scorcher' or that the phrase 'dog days of summer' came from that. Had you known Sirius was** **the most important star to ancient Egyptian astronomers? It reappeared in Egypt each year just as the annual Nile flooding began. Sopdet was the goddess of the star. The Greeks called her..."**

James abruptly stopped and shook the letter. "We thought you had some hot-and-heavy romance going on!" Shaking his head, he gave the letter to Peter, who looked at it front and back and then handed it to Remus.

"It isn't a love letter." Remus said, chuckling. "Wonders never cease." He scrutinised the end of the letter. "B," he said, before asking, "Why do you call each other 'B'?"

Sirius answered, "I call her Beauty, and humbly refer to myself as Beast, but she has a higher opinion of my looks, and so writes 'B' to spare my blushes."

His mates laughed. Sirius grinned. Satisfied that speaking the truth with exaggerated modesty misled his friends into thinking his pen friend was just that…a friend, he placed the letter back into its envelope.

On the way to Transfiguration, Sirius stopped by the boys' lav. In a stall, he chanted a spell, smiling when the _private _message appeared on the 'blank' side.

**I'm glad you aced your Transfiguration test. I only got Acceptables in that class, so I'm duly impressed by your Outstandings. I wish I had good news to share, but Da won't hear of my having a dog. When I was little, I made the mistake of trying to pet a doggy I thought was smiling and got a bite instead of a lick. I've tried to tell Da how well-mannered and gentle Grimmy is, but he refuses to listen. **

He read on, touched and flattered that she thought so highly of his alter ego. Her father was doing him a favour by denying her request to keep 'Grimmy' as a pet, but Sirius still thought the man a self-pitying old codger. The last few lines made his heart leap.

**To answer your last question, yes, I hear your voice inside my head when I read your letters. It makes me smile, and wonder what our second kiss will be like. I look forward to returning the favour. **

**B**

Sirius clenched a fist. "Yes!" It had taken two weeks, but finally Rosmerta had brought up their kiss, given him the sign that she wanted him to visit and give her another one.

"Uh…are you okay?" a voice asked from the next stall.

He laughed. "I'm bloody brilliant."

In the outer corridor, he checked his watch and cursed.

"You'd do better to hurry."

Sirius turned to see the Head Girl approaching. He said, "You're going to be late too, Evans."

She said as they began walking together, "I know. I was helping a first year who's been having trouble remembering her magical herbs for Potions, and time slipped away."

He slanted a considering look. "If we run, we might not be tardy." When she hesitated, he said, "I won't tell, if that's what you're worried about."

"All right- run!"

Sirius jogged down the corridor, grinning. "I didn't know you had it in you, Evans."

"What, rule-breaking? I'm not perfect, Black."

He said, "James thinks you are."

She blushed. While they hurried up the stairs, she said, "I wish he didn't. I'm not a doll that has to be put on a pedestal and can't be touched."

Sirius' eyebrows rose. _That _was quite a telling statement- almost a cry for help. He looked closely at Evan's troubled face. She wasn't prissy and smug like he'd thought she was. The corners of his mouth turned up. Will Scarlet would be delighted to aid Maid Marian in her quest to snog the chivalrous Robin.

"Call me Sirius," he said, repressing a chuckle at her suspicious expression.

"Serious?"

"Yes, Lily?" he asked, as though she'd said his name.

She smiled. "Do you ever get tired of puns?"

"Do you get tired of being compared to a flower?"

She shook her head. "Except my parents, when I was little, no one ever has."

"Aside from James, you mean?"

Green eyes became huge. "James?"

"Hasn't he told you? Merlin knows he's sighed over you in his sleep often enough."

Lily's cheeks rivalled her hair in colour. Sirius much preferred the softer side of her personality. He'd have to do his best to prod James into bringing it out on a regular basis.

When they reached the classroom, he gestured for her to precede him. "Ladies first."

"Thank you."

He returned the girl's friendly smile. "You're welcome."

-

* * *

- 

Her friend was smiling from ear to ear, doing some sort of happy dance. Rosmerta laughed, thinking it looked like something Fiona's daughter would do.

"What's that for, Mum?" Natalie asked, walking into the café area of the bookshop.

Fiona took her daughter's hands and whirled her around in a circle. "Miss Rosmerta's my co-leader now, darling, isn't that marvellous?"

Natalie nodded her head vigorously. "Ace, Mum, but I'm getting dizzy!"

Fiona pulled her daughter close. "I'm in the mood to celebrate, so if you won't twirl, you must Tango!" She led the child across the shop, humming "Duh-dun, duh-dun, duh-da-da-dun!"

"I think you need a taller partner," a man's voice commented.

Rosmerta was amused to see her friend red-faced and stammering, "W…well I don't have one."

Hamish MacInnes walked further into the shop. "Do you want one?"

"Dance with Hamish, Mummy, Dance with Hamish," Natalie urged.

"Do you know how to Tango, Mr. MacInnes?" Fiona asked, sounding curious.

_Curiously breathy, too…_

Rosmerta agreed with the little voice in the back of her mind, for a pleasant change.

"It's Hamish, and I'm willing to learn."

_Look at her face- she's wondering what else he'd like to learn!_

"Maybe some other time…Hamish," said Fiona. She smoothed down her short hair in a nervous gesture and said, "Rosmerta's my new co-leader."

"You'll be a credit to Scouting," he said with a smile.

Rosmerta took the opportunity to ask, "Have you set a time to make Willow-herb ointment with Mrs. McFee?"

He nodded. "This afternoon, when the children are through with their studies."

Ros smiled at Natalie. "Mrs. McFee serves gingerbread and chocolate chip biscuits. Do you think your troop would like to help?"

"Yes!"

"That's rather short notice," said Fiona.

"I'll run ask everyone right now!" Natalie said on her way out the door.

Fiona watched her daughter leave and then said, "It sounds like you'll have…"

"You have to come too," Rosmerta interjected. "I don't know the girls, they need to get used to me, and besides, if I can close the pub for an hour or two, you can close up shop."

"That reminds me, I'd better get back to my inventory. Quidditch supplies are low after Hogsmeade Weekend," Hamish said, waving farewell.

Fiona called after him, "Didn't you stop in to pick up that book I ordered?"

"I'll be back," he said with a smile.

"Oh…okay…bye," said Fiona. She turned to Rosmerta when he left and demanded, "What are you grinning at?"

"I'll tell you later."

-

That afternoon, a group of Witch Guides and Wizard Scouts gathered around a huge cauldron in Mrs. McFee's back garden, waiting to take a turn to stir the viscous solution that would become Willow-herb ointment. The children were various ages, and several were brothers and sisters who bickered happily over who wielded a ladle better.

"It's gooey," Robbie said to Natalie, who had sidled close in order to watch the boy stir. He smiled. "Want a turn?"

"I already had one," the girl said wistfully.

"You can help me stir," Robbie offered.

Rosmerta thought the pair looked sweet together, the boy's cherubic curls contrasting with the girl's dark hair. The illusion was broken when Natalie shrieked, "Eeuwww, you got gook all over the handle!"

Robbie and the rest of the scouts laughed. Natalie's face turned red. Rosmerta glanced back to the bench near the house. Hamish and Fiona were sitting together, chatting. She didn't want to break that up, so she said, "I'll clean…OH NO!"

Natalie had wiped her sticky hands on the boy's crisp uniform. Now the girls were laughing. Robbie said darkly, "Think that's funny? How about _this?"_

'This' was a ladle full of gummy ointment, hurled at the girl who'd soiled his uniform. Unfortunately, for Rosmerta, she'd stepped between the children at exactly the moment the slime had been slung. All the children gaped in horror...and then erupted into laughter.

"What's going on?" Mrs. McFee demanded, bustling across the lawn with a tray of sweets, Hamish and Fiona following close behind her. The boys and girls stared with big eyes as the old woman took in the situation and said, "Who owes Rosmerta an apology?"

"I'm sorry," muttered Robbie.

"I'm sorry too," said Natalie. Her lips trembled. "Does this mean we don't get any gingerbread or biscuits?"

Mrs. McFee handed the tray to Hamish, who looked surprised by its weight. She asked, "What do you think, Robert?"

Robbie said, "I tricked Natalie into grabbing the sticky handle, and I threw the ointment, so I'm the one who shouldn't get a biscuit."

The elderly witch turned to the woman with glop in her hair. "What do you say, dear?"

Rosmerta said, "I think if they both promise to be on their best behaviour, and stay behind to clean the cauldron, they deserve a treat."

"I promise!" said Robbie.

"I'll stay," Natalie added.

"Very well," Mrs. McFee said before qualifying, "If you two do not behave, I have an oven precisely the right size for two naughty children…to clean."

Robbie and Natalie huddled together while the others took a step back from the witch who told the 'real' Hansel and Gretel story every Halloween. Mrs. McFee smiled enigmatically and linked her arm through Rosmerta's, leading her toward the house. She bent close to whisper, "Mentioning the oven works like magic every time."

Rosmerta giggled. "You have a wicked sense of humour, like your great-grandmother."

"I have the humour. She was wicked." Winking at her young friend, Mrs. McFee took her wand out of a table drawer and used a non-verbal spell to clean ointment out of hair.

"How clever, were you a Ravenclaw?" Rosmerta tried to enquire casually. Dark eyes narrowed in a way that made her nervous.

"You are not the first to ask, or to be told I prefer not to say which house I was sorted into," Mrs. McFee replied.

_She doesn't know you were hoping to find out and tell Sirius! Act like a Hufflepuff!_

Rosmerta hung on to an innocent expression. "I guess a lot of people have been curious."

She might have overplayed it- Mrs. McFee said with a hint of a smile, "Persistently? Only one…Sirius Black."

The mention of his name caused Rosmerta to remember what she had left out of the letter to her 'pen friend'. Reading his notes in bed, she not only heard his voice, but also imagined him lying beside her, shirtless, while he said the words. She said, as if she barely recognised the name, "The boy you fed gingerbread?"

"Yes, he's a scamp, but a kind-hearted one."

Rosmerta tried not to ask, but she couldn't resist, "What do you mean?"

Mrs. McFee regarded her steadily for a moment before turning to reach for the kettle. "I'll tell you over tea."

-

* * *

- 

Sirius finished his History of Magic essay and rolled up the scroll, leaning across the library table to whisper, "James, I need to borrow the cloak."

Remus was off helping Peter find a book on runes and no one else was nearby, but James still glanced around before asking, "What for?"

"A run to Hogsmeade."

James looked envious. "All right. If I didn't have to patrol, I'd go with you."

Sirius smiled. They'd had some good runs this term, but the only company he wanted waited for him in the village.

James abruptly straightened and thrust a hand over his unruly hair, trying to smooth it down. He watched a girl approach, saying, "Hello, Lily."

Sirius watched Lily smooth a red strand behind her ear, amused at the pair's grooming/mating ritual. She smiled. "Hello James…Sirius…I have to find a book for my essay…so…bye."

James stared longingly after the girl, until Sirius kicked him under the table.

"Go _help _her find the book."

The expression of panic crossing his friend's face was almost comic. "But…what do I do after that? Kiss her? What if she's not ready?"

Sirius thought it more likely that James didn't have enough self confidence to try. He suggested, "Kiss her hand, then. If she blushes and smiles, you know she'll say yes when you ask for a real kiss."

"You _ask? _You don't lean in and…do it?_"_

Sirius chuckled. "Most girls, you just kiss, but if she's different, special, you ask."

James nodded earnestly. "Okay, I ask, but first, I take her hand…"

It actually hurt not to laugh, but Sirius managed to keep a straight face as he lifted his left hand with the right and demonstrated proper hand-kissing technique.

"Why are you kissing yourself, Padfoot?"

Peter, book in hand, took the seat beside him with a quizzical smile on his face.

"Because I'm so damn gorgeous, mate," Sirius replied facetiously, planting open-mouthed kisses on the back of his hand.

His friends laughed, Remus shaking his head in mock-disapproval. "The sins of pride and vanity require penance."

James rose as his friends sat, saying, "Yeah, while I go...uh…find my book…you do penance."

Sirius looked across the table. "What did you have in mind, Friar Moony?"

"Help Wormtail write his Divination essay."

Although the penance far outweighed the 'sins', Sirius nodded agreeably and reached for Peter's book.

-

That night, when two of his roommates were getting ready for bed and the other was patrolling with the girl he hoped to kiss, Sirius donned James' Invisibility Cloak and snuck out of Gryffindor house. He could evade Filch and anyone else roaming the corridors without one, but it took time that he'd rather spend with Rosmerta.

In a side courtyard, he hid the cloak beneath the leg of a bench and transformed. Tail wagging furiously in excitement, the great black dog ran to Hogsmeade faster than he ever had before.

Once he reached the Broomsticks, Sirius shifted back into human form and knocked softly on the back door. It opened right away.

"Hurry, come in," Rosmerta urged. She didn't back him against the door and kiss him the way she had in his dream, but she did say in a tone that made his heart race, "I should feel guilty for encouraging you to break the rules, but I'm too happy to see you."

She wore a blouse that almost matched her eyes. The thought he shouldpay her a compliment flickered in and out of mind as Sirius stared down at her, smiling. Eventually, he managed to say, "I'm happy to see you too."

He reached out to touch her hair. It seemed to curl around his fingers, a silken bond Sirius had no desire to break.

Rosmerta hesitantly touched his hair. "I wondered what yours felt like."

He stood still as she slid her fingers through his hair, lifting and rubbing the strands. She wasn't the first girl to do so, but she was the only one he let play with it for more than a moment. Before, he'd found the experience annoying and pulled back quickly. Now, he bent to allow Rosmerta's hands to sink into his hair and closed his eyes in sensual enjoyment.

"You made a sound like Grimmy."

Sirius could hear the smile in Rosmerta's voice. "I hope you think I've got better hair."

Her fingers began massaging in a way that caused another satisfied groan to escape. She giggled. "You're similar in colour and shine, but human hair is silkier and…"

He opened heavy eyelids. "And?"

She whispered, "Sexier."

Sirius didn't ask to kiss Rosmerta. She'd given permission with her eyes and the pretty mouthlifting to meet his. He brushed her lips softly and smiled when she pressed closer. He kept the kiss sweet until she teasingly licked his bottom lip, and then slipped her tongue along the inside of it.

She made his head spin, and Sirius did his best to return the favour. He made a noise of protest when she pulled back abruptly. "My father's calling," she said, placing a finger to her lips before disengaging the muting ward. "Yes, Da?"

"I need your help, lass."

"I'll be right up," Rosmerta said. She stood on tiptoes to whisper in Sirius' ear, "Will you wait for me?"

He nodded, grinning. She backed away smiling. After Rosmerta had gone up the stairs, Sirius glanced around the room and then stared at the door leading to the stairway. He hadn't promised to wait in the _kitchen, _had he?

No, he had not.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Must wish **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black** happy birthday, and anyone wondering what Sirius will overhear and see…well, I think you'll enjoy it, LOL. The people whose reviews I enjoyed last week were...…...♥** 40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **ange de l'eau **♥** Arilla Rossi**♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Elspeth Bates**♥** EmmasPadawan **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie**♥ **ishandtwofourths**♥** Lainia26 **♥** Machiavelli Jr **♥** MagicalMischiefMakersInc **♥** MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight**♥** RahNee **♥ **Shadow-of-the-Night**♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113**♥ **sunny9847 **♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon **♥** Writer-In-Disguise **♥ **and **♥** Writer Merrin **♥


	12. Old Black Magic

Chapter 12- Old Black Magic

-

Sirius felt a thrill of excitement as he slowly climbed the stairs. A wrong step on a creaking patch of wood might bring Rosmerta out of her father's room. He didn't want that. No matter how vividly he could imagine it, she was unlikely to snog his brains out on the stairway. Throw him out for overstepping his bounds was more like it.

The chance to satisfy his curiosity was worth the risk. Sirius kept him climbing upwards, questions echoing in his mind. What was Rosmerta's father like? How bad were the man's injuries? More importantly, what was her room like?

Near the top of the stairs, he heard a man's voice say, "Thank you for clearing up the mess I made."

"You're more than welcome, Da. I'll let you rest."

"Nae, only my eyes are tired, Ros. Will you read the article I circled?"

After a slight pause, Rosmerta said, "The obituaries, Dad? Do you really think that's a…"

"You-Know-Who kills wizards and Muggles alike these days. If friends or…family…die, I want to know."

In contrast to Diarmid's gruff tone, Rosmerta's voice was soft, "Are you hoping Mum's name won't be listed- or that it will?"

"Hold your tongue, daughter."

Silence fell. Sirius had started to ease back down the stairway when he heard, "I didnae mean literally. Read the paper!"

Rosmerta sounded resigned when she answered, "Yes, Da."

Sirius chanted a Disillusionment Charm and edged across the invalid's doorway. He caught a glimpse of a frail man who clenched his fists in response to hearing the details of each obituary. _Morbid old josser, _Sirius thought, as he crept down the corridor.

He came to what was obviously Rosmerta's room and hesitated in the corridor. An inconvenient prick of conscience reminded Sirius that he hadn't been invited inside. If he walked into her bedroom, he'd be snooping.

_C…can't be worse than eavesdropping._

The sly thought sounded an awful lot like Peter's voice. How odd.

_Examine your motivation. What are you hoping to accomplish?_

Sirius frowned. Now he was imagining Remus' saintly advice. He huffed in amusement and wondered what James would say. Instantly, he 'heard',

_If I had the chance to look through Lily's things, I'd take it!_

Sirius grinned. That was why James was his best mate. On the important issues, they were two peas in a pod. He walked into the room and took a good look around. Rosmerta liked yellow and white with accents of blue. He looked at the bed. It was a double with a feminine, not frilly, coverlet and only one accent pillow. He nodded in approval. His mother piled dozens of useless, 'decorative' pillows on her bed and dealt harshly with anyone who dared disturb their placement.

Like her sons… The one and only time he and Regulus had dared conduct a pillow fight with their mother's arsenal; she had locked them in a dark cupboard. Sirius, although not fond of confined spaces, would have slept until let out. Reggie, however, panicked and beat on the door. Sirius remembered…

_He grabbed his brother's arms, pinning them behind his back, yelling, "The longer you scream, the longer we'll be in here, so shut the hell up, Reggie!"_

_Regulus struggled to break free. "It's your fault. I shouldn't have listened to you!"_

"_They're bloody pillows, for Merlin's sake, not ruddy heirlooms! When Mother dies, I'm going to build a bonfire and chuck them in one-by-one!" _

_The six-year-old stilled, asking his eight-year-old brother in a tone of quiet wonder, "You'd really burn her pillows? All of them?"_

"_All of them," Sirius answered._

"_I see your teeth. Why are you smiling?" _

"_Because, before I burn them, I'll take one of Kreacher's knives…"_

"_Not the cleaver!" said Reggie, in a tone of delighted horror._

_Sirius said with relish, "Yes, his favourite cleaver! I'll take it, and I'll…"_

"_Cut them?"_

"_Hack them open and rip out the stuffing!" gloated Sirius, before imitating the sadistic elf wringing his hands in agony over "Mistress' precious pillows!" _

_Reggie laughed and slipped his hand into his brother's, asking, "What else will you do?"_

Sirius had come up with a number of vicious and inventive ways to destroy pillows. The memory was bittersweet. Ironically, he'd felt closer to Regulus inside that cupboard than he ever had out of it.

A book on the bedside caught his eye. It was a romance novel. A grin spread across Sirius' face as he picked it up. There was a bloke on a motorbike on the cover. He looked from the painted 'hero' to his reflection in the mirror over the dresser. "Tall, dark, handsome…I'm definitely her type," he murmured, opening the book in the middle to read,

**Her hands were shaking as she undid the buttons on his shirt. "I've wanted you since the day I saw you."**

His eyebrows rose as he read the love scene that followed. Why hadn't he realised how educational these books were? He flipped through the pages to read a bit here and there. Sirius found the names, Simeon and Rose, very amusing. After perusing the novel for a few minutes, however, his smile became a frown. He turned to the last page.

Sirius was sitting on the edge of the bed, scowling at the novel, when Rosmerta walked in. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded.

He held up the book. "Learning things they don't teach in school."

Her cheeks turned pink, but she said firmly, "You were supposed to wait in the kitchen."

"I agreed to wait, I didn't say where," Sirius countered.

She shut the door. "Wards activate when the door closes, but I never thought you'd violate my privacy!"

He stood and took a step toward her. "I only wanted to see your room. I didn't rifle through your knickers!"

Rosmerta marched over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Sirius peered over her shoulder at the tidy array of panties and bras. They were mostly basic black or white, but he caught an intriguing glimpse of red lace before she shut the drawer with a snap.

"Maybe you didn't, but you read my book. Give it back!"

Sirius said, "Make me."

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta prided herself on being calm and level-headed, but his wicked smirk pushed all kinds of buttons and temper was one of them. She used the nonverbal spell she'd mastered and yanked her book out of stunned fingers.

She ended the spell after bending to shove the novel beneath her bed. Sirius immediately dropped to his knees, ignoring her 'stop that' to lift the mattress. "How many of those do you have under there?"

Rosmerta sat on the bed. "None of your business!"

He leaned toward her. "It is my business."

His eyes reminded her of storm clouds, but Rosmerta met them straight on. "How is that?"

Surprisingly, his gaze shifted away. Sirius said in a low voice. "I need to see what I'm up against."

"_Up against?" _

His hand shot out, sliding past her thigh to retrieve a book. "Yeah. This guy and all the other ones you're hiding under there- my competition."

Rosmerta would have laughed, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings. "Sirius, I'm only _storing _them there until the Ladies' rummage sale, and they aren't competition. They're fictional characters!"

He laughed shortly. "I know they're fictional, because no bloke can save a goblin mission, defeat a werewolf and then quote reams of poetry before kissing a girl."

"I don't expect you to," she said, taking the book and tossing it across the room. "I read for entertainment, like you probably read those boy-wizard-quests-to-save-the-world books."

"Action/adventure," he mumbled.

She smiled. "I wasn't waiting for you to save me, or quote poetry, I was waiting…"

He reached up to pull her gently into his arms. Rosmerta didn't push him away. Somehow, kissing Sirius in her bedroom without being on the bed quieted the voice of reason that had been urging her to return to the kitchen.

Her eyes closed as her mouth and heart opened. No love scene committed to page compared to the reality of Sirius Black. His body moulded to hers in a way that felt achingly good and right. Kisses lengthened and deepened. The heat and need he created with his lips and hands was so tempting, Rosmerta briefly wished she was like one of those heroines who made love first and developed the relationship afterwards.

Since she wasn't the type, Ros pulled away when the kiss became too heated, mimicking what she wanted…someday. "Sirius, we can't."

He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks. "Why not?"

"You're a student...and I'm not ready."

"I'm seventeen." His tone implied _of legal age_, but Sirius stopped pressing kisses to the underside of her jaw. He said, "I'll wait."

"Like you did the last time?"

His slow smile was far too appealing. "Probably."

Rosmerta stood and held out her hand. "Then stay out of my bedroom."

Sirius clasped her hand and brought it to his lips. "I will…as soon as I finish snooping." He sprang to his feet and boldly opened the doors to her wardrobe. "Bold colours for a bold woman. Nice." Grinning, he backed away and opened the lavatory door. "Aha, the bathtub…big enough for two, very nice…but what's this on the floor…another romance novel?"

She snatched it out of his hand. "Stop embarrassing me. I'm not saying they're classic literature, I…"

"I shouldn't tease you, I'm sorry." Sirius tapped the cover with a fingertip. "Anytime you want to ride a motorbike, say the word and I'll give you a spin."

"Now?"

"Actually, the word is _please_, but 'now' works too," he said playfully.

"I can't leave my father." She wanted to.

Sirius eyed her speculatively. "You've never left the house at night…taken a walk…?"

Rosmerta's face felt hot. "Yes," she admitted, "I've cast a deep-sleep spell so I could leave without worrying."

He said persuasively, "Do it again."

A half hour later, Rosmerta stood beside the road, looking up at the crescent shape of the waning moon. She wondered if she was moonstruck. The sound of a motorbike carried on the night air. All at once, she didn't care if she was crackers or just crazy about Sirius. Aside from dancing in the moonlight, she'd done her best to take care of her father and be a prudent, responsible member of the community.

She wanted to throw caution to the wind for a little while.

-

Once she'd become comfortable with sitting behind Sirius, keeping her feet on the footpegs and her legs away from the muffler, Rosmerta threw back her head and laughed in exhilaration. She held onto his waist, dipping her shoulder along with his as they leaned into the curves. Adrenaline pulsed through her body.

The road was dark, but she wasn't taking a ride for the view. Rosmerta wanted to feel the rush of speed and escape her daily cares.

"Want to fly?" asked Sirius.

She leaned forward, enjoying the brush of his hair against her face. "Yes!"

The transition from ground to air was so smooth, she cried, "It's so much better than a broomstick!"

"A witch who doesn't like to ride a broom? Shocking!"

Rosmerta said over the whoosh of wind, "I don't care for Potions, either." She giggled. "I don't even own a cauldron!"

They laughed together as Sirius brought the motorbike down to the motorway once more. Gradually, they coasted to a halt at the side of the road. He pointed to the twinkling lights of the village below. "I like Muggle electricity, music, and beer. I don't think we're better than they are, just different. Some people, my family included, say that makes me a blood traitor."

She wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "I say that makes you a decent human being, and if your family doesn't appreciate you, other people do."

"Other people? Who?" his voice carried a smile.

Rosmerta used the pegs to lever herself up to kiss his cheek. "Me."

Sirius revved the engine. "Hang on tight. I've got to get you home!"

"What's the hurry?"

His husky laughter made her pulse leap. "The sooner we return, the quicker I can kiss you good night!"

-

* * *

- 

Sirius rolled the bike beneath the lean-to attached to Hagrid's Hut and backed away slowly, trying to make as little noise as humanly possible.

"Fine night for a ride, eh?"

The boy turned to face the half giant, squinting against the light. "I didn't do any riding on the grounds."

Hagrid lowered his lantern. "Were yeh ridin' in th' Forbidden Forest, then?"

"No."

"Good. The centaurs aren't as friendly as they used to be, an' some might use yeh fer target practise."

A chill of apprehension travelled down Sirius' spine. Would centaurs target women?

"Get to yer house, boy."

Sirius nodded. "Thanks, Hagrid." He ran to the side courtyard and retrieved the cloak before making his way back to Gryffindor. The Fat Lady mumbled, "Naughty boy…disturbing beauty sleep," when he whispered the password. Inside the common room, a lone occupant lay sleeping on the sofa nearest the fireplace. Sirius shook his shoulder. "James, wake up."

His mate sat up and yawned. "Wha' time is it?"

Sirius chuckled. For a pillow, James had used a cushion that left button marks on his cheek. One side of his friend's hair was flat, and the other stuck up wildly. He said, "Time for you to leave before somebody sees you."

James' smile was beatific. "Lily thinks my hair is _adorable."_

"How do you know?"

"She told me," James answered in a dreamy tone. "She said half the time, she wants to smooth it down and the other half- she just wants to run her fingers through it."

"When did this revealing conversation take place?"

"After we kissed."

Sirius stood and held out the cloak. "This calls for a celebration. To the kitchen!"

"I don't want cocoa, I want to go back to sleep," said James.

"Perchance to dream about Maid Marian, Sir Robin?"

James' grin was sheepish. "Yes."

Sirius walked toward the boys' staircase. "Very well, a return to dream land it is!"

Halfway up the stairs, curiosity prodded him to ask, "What did Lily say when you asked for a kiss?"

"She said, 'You are thick as custard, but luckily for you, I love custard.' Then she kissed me." While Sirius stared in amazement, James said, "When you woke me up, I'd been dreaming I was an enormous bowl of custard, and Lily was slathering me all over her…"

"_Yes! _I get the picture, and it's quite…interesting…and I'm happy for you, mate, but…don't tell that dream to anyone else, all right? Some things are better left unsaid," Sirius advised, thinking, _and I wish you'd left it unsaid to me! _

In the dorm, he said goodnight and headed for the shower. Beneath the spray, Sirius decided that if James whispered 'custard' in his sleep, he would think of Rosmerta, plastered with custard the way she'd been coated with mud.

-

The following day, Sirius fell asleep in History of Magic. After jerking his head back when it fell forward a number of times, he put an elbow on the table and propped his head on his fist, mumbling to James, "Kick me if I start to snore, mate."

"Wha? Yeah, righ'," James said around a yawn.

It was such a relief to close his eyes. Sirius dropped into a slumber that ended abruptly when his head slid forward to strike the table. "Damn!" he said thickly, rubbing his forehead.

While those around him snickered, he threw a sideways glare, demanding, "Why didn't you kick me, you git?"

James was asleep, his tilted head and open mouth giving him the look of an enormous chick hoping for a worm. Sirius kicked him. His friend jolted awake, grumbling, "Damn! You didn't have to…uh…sorry Sir!"

The professor had floated across the classroom to their table. The ghost was shaking his head slowly, oozing disapproval like ectoplasm. "Seventh years who act like first years shall be treated accordingly. Mr. Potter, gather your things and move to another table."

"James can have my seat, professor, I'll gladly switch!" Jane Weston cried, waving her hand madly.

Binns met Sirius' horrified gaze and smiled. "Thank you, Miss Weston. I'm sure you will have a beneficial influence on your classmate."

The universe was cruel and unfair. James went to sit beside the girl he had custard fantasies about, while Sirius was stuck at a table with a girl who gave him nightmares.

"I'll try hard to be a beneficial influence," said Jane, plopping down and arranging her things.

Sirius kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. He could feel her staring and tapped his quill in irritation.

"You really should take notes," she whispered. "They're really helpful when it comes to studying for exams."

"Really?" He curled his lip, beginning to sketch a shoe on parchment.

Jane said, "Oh yes! I used to get Acceptable marks, but now I Exceed Expectations!"

The girl was impervious to sarcasm and exceeding Binns' expectations of driving him spare. Sirius made a non-committal noise and continued to draw.

"Is that a trainer?"

Jane was oblivious to hints that he wanted nothing to do with her, too. He refused to look at her. "Yes."

"It's very black."

_Like my mood. _He said, "Symbolism."

She left him in peace for half a minute and then asked, "What's on the bottom, there?"

"Gum."

After a few minutes of blessed silence, Jane began giggling. "Oh you, you're being funny! I get it."

He turned his head and looked directly into her eyes. "No you don't, Jane. You don't _get it." _

She froze for an instant, before smiling determinedly. "You obviously didn't get enough sleep last night. I'll talk to you later, when you're not so grouchy."

Sirius watched her serenely take notes and felt his anger grow. He'd given Jane the benefit of the doubt, thought her 'not too bright' as James had put it, but a fleeting expression had given her away. She knew he wasn't interested…and didn't care...because his feelings obviously didn't count. So why should he care about _her _feelings?

He picked up a quill and altered his sketch to depict a rat, gnawing gum off the bottom of a shoe.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Don't make Sirius angry…you wouldn't like him when he's angry, lol. He's not Marvin the Martian or the Incredible Hulk (hunk, maybe :D) but Sirius does have a 'black streak' which will show itself next chap...…...♥** 40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Elspeth Bates**♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie**♥** Hurley's Belial **♥ **ishandtwofourths**♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥** Limaree **♥** Machiavelli Jr **♥** MagicalMischiefMakersInc **♥** MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight**♥** potteronpotluvhim **♥** RahNee **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113**♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon**♥** and **♥** Writer-In-Disguise **♥


	13. Same Old Witchcraft

-

Chapter 13- Same Old Witchcraft

-

"I…I can't believe we're really doing this!" Peter whispered, following Sirius into the darkened library. He shuffled closer while gazing apprehensively at the towering stacks of books that loomed on every side of the vast chamber.

"Do you want to turn back?" asked Sirius.

Peter's front teeth gnawed worriedly on his lower lip. "No, b…but what if we get caught? Tomorrow's the full moon!"

Sirius lifted the glowing tip of his wand and threw a warning look over his shoulder. "If we get caught, we say we came here on a dare and Prongs keeps Moony company while we're in detention- but we won't get caught if you _keep quiet!"_

"Right, sorry."

The friends had almost reached the cordoned off Restricted Section when Peter said, "That sleep spell you cast on James and Remus…where'd you learn that?"

_From my girlfriend, _Sirius thought with an inner grin. He said, "None of your business. They wouldn't approve of our little venture, so I made sure they never have to know about it. End of story."

They crawled beneath the cord separating the section from the rest of the library. Peter said, "How do we find the book we need?"

Sirius eased the strap of his rucksack off his shoulder and lowered it to the floor. With a triumphant grin, he lifted out a Y-shaped stick. "We use a divining rod." He held the forked stick with the long end pointing forward and waited.

"Isn't it supposed to move?" Peter whispered loudly.

Yes, it was, in an up-and-down motion to indicate the location of the desired object. Sirius said, "I didn't order it from a Diagon Alley shop, I made it myself from a willow twig. Maybe it needs more time to warm up." He closed his eyes and concentrated. It didn't move. Resisting the urge to snap the rod in half, he thrust it out. "You're the one that needs a book. You try it."

The tip dipped down the moment podgy hands closed around the V ends of the divining rod. An astonished smile lit up Peter's face. "It works!"

"I should hex you for doubting," said Sirius. He cleared his throat and pointed. "Get on with it!"

They moved slowly forward. Sirius' wand illumined shelves of books about Dark Magic while Peter held out the divining rod, waiting for a vibration to lead him to the right tome.

"Some of the books don't have titles," Peter said, "and some have stains that look like blood!"

"They aren't children's stories." Sirius nodded at a shelf of books written in different Wizarding languages. "I hope the text we need isn't written in elfish."

"I hope the book isn't too _Dark_," said Peter. His pupils were huge in the low light. "I want Jane to like me. I don't want to do anything bad"

Sirius said tongue-in-cheek, "So blood sacrifice is out?"

Peter brushed against a book that growled. He squeaked in alarm. "B…blood? Isn't blood magic Dark?"

"Not necessarily." Sirius saw the rod tilt upwards and pointed to the right. "Go down that aisle." He followed Peter, explaining, "According to my father, most magic is neutral- it can be used for good or ill, but certain texts are categorised as Dark to prevent students from getting up to no good."

"_I solemnly swear I am up to no good_," Peter quoted the Marauder's motto with a nervous laugh. He gasped when the rod shook violently in his hands. The end veered sharply to the left, and then jerked to the right before pointing straight down.

"It seems we have two choices." Sirius pulled out the tome the diving rod had tapped on the left side of the narrow aisle. It looked and smelled mouldy. He said, "_Moste Potente Potions_, wouldn't our pal Snivellus love to get his greasy hands on this."

"I'm no good at Potions," said Peter.

Sirius leafed through the book, grimacing over the drawings and the list of side effects that accompanied the potions. "Even if we could get the ingredients, we don't want her to develop facial tics or fanatical life-long devotion to you."

"Spasms I wouldn't mind, but what if I want to break up with her? I don't want Jane treating me like she treats you."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Thank you for acknowledging my suffering." He re-shelved the book and reached for the other tome the rod had indicated. "_Ye Olde and Best Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes…_sounds promising, but the print's so bloody small, I can barely read the words."

Peter waved his wand over the book. "It's my job to magnify the paper for Gran every holiday."

Sirius grinned. "Bless the old dear."

Peter shook his head. "She's mean and nicks my sweets from Father Christmas."

"I take it back. Let's send her cockroach clusters instead."

While Peter listed every disgusting sweet he could think of to send his Gran, Sirius perused the book of spells and found one that would do the job. He waved a hand to interrupt a description of cinnamon flavoured fire ants. "Here's what you want. Not a dodgy love spell- a _Panglossian _enchantment." He saw the blank look on Peter's face and said, "It's the equivalent of rose-coloured glasses. According to the book, this spell will entrance Jane into viewing everything you do in the most attractive, optimistic light."

"No side effects?"

Sirius double-checked. "No, and it's easily rescinded."

"Why isn't it in a regular book of spells, then?"

"It's a mystery." Sirius reached into his rucksack for a piece of parchment and a quill. "While I write down the instructions, you check the map."

Peter unfolded the enchanted map that showed the location of everyone at Hogwarts. "Dumbledore is still awake. The map shows his footsteps pacing back and forth. I wonder what keeps him up at night?"

"Aside from trifling cares like You-Know-Who? Find McGonagall and you'll see."

"Her footsteps are headed toward…the Headmaster's quarters! Why is she going there?"

Sirius glanced up. No, Peter wasn't being facetious. He said, "Perhaps they drink cocoa and have a chat."

Peter nodded. "My Gran sometimes chats with me in the middle of the night, when she's sleepwalking. Gives me a fright, it does, waking up to see her beside my bed."

"What do you chat about?" Sirius asked absently, copying down the last of the instructions. The reason the spell had been classified Dark was now apparent. It required a certain kind of blood. He waited for Peter to begin rambling on about his Gran and stealthily reached for the rucksack.

"I don't mind her visits, really, since she's much nicer asleep, but…_what are you going to do with that knife?"_

His quarry tried to scramble away, but Sirius lunged to grab his friend's arm and cut it. After bloodying the knife, he said, "Sorry mate, but the spell requires unwilling blood." He used a healing spell and said, "You weren't really scared, were you?"

Peter sniffed and shook his head. "_No! _I was startled, is all. I wasn't expecting you to act like a knife-wielding maniac."

Sirius put the knife and book away, chuckling. "This maniac is ready to go cast a spell if you are." He bent to pick up the rucksack.

"You're not really a m…maniac, you're the best mate a bloke could have," said Peter.

"I'm not doing this entirely out of the goodness of my heart," Sirius reminded.

"I know, but James wouldn't do this for me. Remus neither."

"They have more sense…and we should emulate their sterling qualities."

"I can keep a secret," said Peter. "Isn't that a sterling quality?"

Sirius thought of Rosmerta and smiled. "It's first-rate."

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta still bought romance novels, but she didn't read them before bed anymore. Instead, she curled up with a cup of tea and a growing stack of letters. The friendly, casual messages written in masculine handwriting were a disguise for the 'real' letters hidden on the 'blank' side of each sheet of parchment.

Love letters- the first she had ever received. Her ex-boyfriend had owled the occasional note to meet him places, and after they'd parted, he'd sent a few letters alternately cursing her or stating his intent to win her back, but no love was involved. After Jonathan, another man had sent her correspondence, but it was anything but romantic. Sirius was the only man whose letters made her smile.

It was too early to say she loved Sirius, but Rosmerta was in love with his way with words. He made her feel young and vibrant. Reading his letters brightened even the darkest, most stressful day.

The postscript on Sirius' first letter had read,

**Turn the parchment over and say billet doux.**

She had turned the letter over and said, "Billet Doux? Love Letter? Why do I…"

Handwriting had materialised onto the page. Sirius had devised a way for them to keep their correspondence truly private. A wave of her wand and _Ne parlez pas_, don't speak, hid the message, while _billet doux_ revealed the words.

Secrecy gave Rosmerta the confidence to open up and share things she'd never told anyone else. That she loved her father but hated the way he always seemed to expect her to leave him, just like her mother. That she got frustrated with village gossip and everyone knowing everyone else's business. That she danced in the moonlight- and imagined Sirius was watching.

Her latest confession had triggered a flurry of questions. She'd answered them, thinking Sirius would answer flirtatiously, maybe joke that he'd sneak out and watch. He'd surprised Rosmerta by warning her of the dangers of the forest and asking her not to go.

On the morning of October's full moon, she sent a letter to Hogwarts that spoke of the Fire Festival that would take place that weekend. The celebration of summer's end was one of the highlights of the village year. There would be dancing around bonfires for three nights, and stallholders from across Scotland would join village tradespersons in selling wares and refreshments. The inns were booked to capacity, and all the shops were doing a brisk trade.

Concealed on the 'blank' side of the parchment was her personal message. It read,

**Dear Sirius,**

**It's so hard for me to write this. When I read your letter, my first reaction was 'if he says it's not safe in the forest, then I'm staying home.' I went straight to Fiona. **

**She assured me centaurs are peaceful. They concern themselves with watching the sky to read the signs of the stars and planets, not women who dance in the moonlight. The dangers of the forest lie in the depths, not in a faery ring near Hogsmeade. **

**I hate the thought that you'll worry, but I won't stay home tonight. In the same way you and your friends feel the need to escape the confines of school every now and then, my friends and I need to break away too. **

**I promise to keep my wand at hand and not wander into the forest. I have a powerful incentive to stay safe- I can't wait to see you again.**

She didn't sign her name, but she added something she never had before.

**Yours, **

-

Inside the circle that night, Rosmerta let her cloak fall, but kept her wand at hand, just the way she'd promised. Fiona and the other women smiled and asked her not to jinx them by accident, but no one made fun of her caution.

At first, her movements were stiff, as though she were expecting an attack. The thought of centaurs threatening them with bows and arrows was so ridiculous, Rosmerta laughed softly and relaxed. She looked up into the sky and smiled. The 'man' in the moon had a naughty grin, just like Sirius.

Around her, the others whirled enthusiastically, but she felt compelled to sway to a slower beat. Rosmerta's body felt heavy, her motions languid and sensual. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

"_Woof!"_

Rosmerta opened her eyes to see a huge black dog emerge from the underbrush. She stepped out of the faery ring.

"Be careful!" Fiona said sharply.

"This is Grimmy, my friend," she called back, crouching down to extend a hand to the dog. He backed away. She crooned, "It's me, Rosmerta, don't be afraid." He walked slowly forward. She petted him and said, "Didn't you recognise me? I don't have any food, but if you follow me home…"

Rosmerta broke off when a distant howl echoed in the forest.

"What the hell was that?" Fiona said.

Grimmy began to bark.

"I think we should go," one of the women said nervously.

The howl echoed again, louder, closer.

Maeve Brodie ordered, "Get back into the ring at once!" When Rosmerta approached, Maeve said, "I didn't mean to treat you like Robbie, but I'm afraid this is going to turn out worse than one of my son's stunts."

The women formed a circle within the ring, holding out their wands. Rosmerta tried to coax the dog over to join them, but he remained across the clearing, ears pricked.

Suddenly he crashed back into the forest. "No, come back!" Rosmerta cried.

Fiona grabbed her arm when she tried to leave the ring. "Are you barmy? This faery ring is the only safe place in the forest right now. I don't know what's out there, but I'm not _dying _to find out and neither are you!"

"My husband never wanted me to come…I'm going to catch hell for this, I know it!" said a woman Rosmerta knew from Witch Guides as 'Emma's mother'.

"Then don't tell him," said Fiona.

The women snickered a bit and then fell silent, straining to hear the sounds of the forest. Aside from an occasional rustling in the underbrush, the night was still. A quarter hour passed, then a half hour. The group started to relax.

A dog bounded out of the forest. Several women screamed.

Rosmerta ran to meet him. "Grimmy, you fool, you could've been hurt!" She knelt down to hug his neck.

"His tail's wagging, so he must've chased away whatever was making those howls," said Fiona, walking over to give the dog a pat. "Good boy!"

"Probably just another dog," Maeve said hopefully. She came over and ruffled Grimmy's fur. The other women gathered around, petting and praising the dog who seemed to enjoy the attention.

Rosmerta pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Walk us home, Grimmy?"

He stood right away, the clever dog. The women gathered their cloaks and hurried back to the village, giggling in reaction to the scare they'd had. When they stepped out of the forest and onto the land behind the Brodies' home, Fiona said in a tone of deep regret, "As much fun as it's been, I think we need to find another activity for our night out. We can't just think of ourselves, we all have families to consider."

"I don't feel safe in the forest anymore," said Emma's mum.

"I don't either," said another witch.

"We'll think of something," said Maeve. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," they all chorused, going their separate ways.

Rosmerta looked down and smiled. "Come on Grimmy, you deserve a steak."

-

* * *

- 

He wished he could stay longer, being petted and catered to, but after he'd eaten his steak, the Animagus padded over to the door, sighing as he waited for her to open it.

"Thank you for being our hero tonight," Rosmerta said. "We'd still be there, scared to move out of the circle of protection, if not for you." She stood in the doorway watching him leave, waving when he looked back. He woofed and began to run.

Inside the Shrieking Shack, he climbed the stairs to reach the room where his friends waited. In a far corner, the werewolf lifted his head. Padfoot walked over to drop down between the stag and rat, keeping his gaze low and non-confrontational. The wolf hadn't appreciated having his run through the forest cut short.

Wormtail squeaked enquiringly. Padfoot ignored him, closing his eyes and trying to sleep.

-

Sirius awoke cursing. He pushed wet hair out of his face and glared at the boy holding an empty pitcher. "You could've just said 'wake up!'"

"This was more fun." James tossed the pitcher aside, demanding, "Why in Merlin's name didn't you tell us there were women in the forest?"

"I told you to wait until I came back…"

"No, _last _month…that's why you said we couldn't go out, isn't it?"

Sirius mouth opened and closed. Yeah, it was.

"What were they doing in the forest?" asked Peter. "Was it a coven? Were they casting Dark spells?" He sounded hopeful.

"No, just a group of women, enjoying the moonlight," Sirius answered.

James looked at him with a hint of a smile on his face. "How were they _enjoying _the moonlight, you dog?"

"Oh, the usual, dancing in a faery ring," Sirius said off-handed.

"_What?" _said James, "There were women…_dancing…_and you didn't tell us?"

Peter asked eagerly, "Were they naked?"

"Of course not, worm-brain, but they were wearing dresses made of scarves. I hardly think Prong's doe-eyed girlfriend would appreciate him drooling over them."

"I wouldn't drool," James said indignantly.

"I'd drool," said Peter. "Were they wearing..." He cupped his hands at his chest meaningfully.

"Yes, you perv," Sirius said, thinking, _All except Rosmerta. _He smiled at the memory.

"I want to see them next month!" Peter whined.

James frowned. "We should give those women their privacy."

"They won't be coming back," Sirius said. "I walked them to the village and heard them say they don't feel safe in the forest now."

"_I'm sorry for that."_

The three boys turned to see Remus sitting up, looking drained and ill. James rummaged in a sack for potions and brought them over, saying, "You're not the only dangerous creature in the forest."

"You did them a favour, really," Sirius said with a grin.

Remus drank the potions and rose to his feet, smiling a little. "How is that?"

"If you were a woman, would you want a dirty-minded rat drooling over you?"

Even Peter laughed.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: "All is for the best in the best of all possible worlds", said Dr. Pangloss, the tutor who is optimistic regardless of circumstances in Voltaire's _Candide_. When I needed an entrancing enchantment, I found another word for rose-coloured glasses that reminded me of required reading…in a good way, lol. There's lots to look forward to next chap- a Fire Festival, Hallowe'en Feast, and Wormtail gets a girlfriend. :D The people whose reviews I looked forward to last week were…...…...♥** 40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥** Ange de l'eau**♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥** dragonriderhp **♥ **Elspeth Bates **♥** Emmas Padawon **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie**♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **MagicalMischiefMakersInc **♥** MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥ **Shadow-ofthe-Night35 **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥ **sunny9847 **♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon **♥** and **♥** Writer-In-Disguise **♥

* * *


	14. Trick or Treat

Chapter 14- Trick or Treat

-

Sirius stood at the window looking out. He couldn't see the village bonfire from his dorm, but he could imagine the bustling scene as villagers and tourists enjoyed the first night of the Fire Festival. People wanting a drink and a bite to eat would pour into the Broomsticks. Rosmerta would be on her feet constantly.

The thought of giving her a foot massage made him smile. The idea that predatory bastards would try to chat her up made him frown.

"Sirius, Sirius, it's time, come on!" Peter said from the doorway.

He continued to stare out. "I don't want to go."

"James says he'll give you detention if you don't come down."

Sirius shrugged. "Let him."

"Remus said the honour of Gryffindor house is at stake."

"Somebody else can defend it."

Peter gulped audibly, before saying, "Snape bet a galleon Slytherin would win this year!"

Sirius turned away from the window.

"Oh he did, did he?"

"He said they'd win even if you did compete."

Sirius walked over to his desk and opened a drawer with a snap. He removed his wand and strode toward the door.

Down in the common room, a small group waited.

Jane Weston rushed over. "I told them Peter would convince you!"

"He knew just the right thing to say," Sirius said dryly.

"I told Lily and Dorcas that exact same thing, only this morning!" Jane turned to the girls waiting with James and Remus and said, "Didn't I tell you Peter always knows just the right thing to say?"

"Yes, she did," said Dorcas.

"Several times," Lily added.

"That was nice of you, Jane," said Peter.

The girl smiled as if he'd given her flowers. "Not half as nice as you are." Her brow creased when she glanced at Sirius. After a moment, it smoothed out. "I think you're nice too."

Sirius traded wry looks with Peter. The Panglossian enchantment was working, but traces of her former infatuation remained.

"Yes, it was good of you to deign to represent your house," James said.

Sirius rolled his eyes and continued walking toward the entrance.

As she swung up to reveal the opening, the guardian portrait wished him luck. He glanced back at his friends as he told the Fat Lady, "If you sang a song, I'm sure I'd be inspired to win."

The stifled gasps and groans he heard caused Sirius to hide a satisfied grin. It reminded him of something Mother had said on a visit to his grandparents. _Sirius will do as he's told, but he'll have you grinding your teeth as he does it!_

"Any special request?" the Lady asked.

Sirius smiled. "_Ride of the Valkyries_, please."

"I always knew I could sing _Brünnhilde," _she confided, before waving him on.

He marched jauntily onward, waving a hand in time to the ear-splitting "HO JO TO HO!" of the 'Valkyrie'.

James' quick strides brought him alongside his friend. "Has anyone ever told you you're a vengeful git?" he asked conversationally.

"Yes, you," Sirius answered. They began sniggering.

Lily caught up to them. The trio descended the stairs while the others followed. With a smile, she said, "So what's the plan?"

"Plan?" Sirius chuckled.

"A serious plan?" said James, as they reached the main corridor. He slipped an arm around Lily, shaking his head. "No such thing."

"Not even a _Sirius _plan?" she asked, sounding alarmed.

Sirius smiled reassuringly. "Stifles creativity. I take the classic approach."

"What's that?"

They had reached the entry hall. Sirius looked back at Remus. "Tell her, professor."

"Professor?" Dorcas asked.

"His little joke- very little," said Remus, before telling Lily, _"Veni vidi vici."_

Peter told Jane, "That means I came, I saw…"

"I conquered," said Sirius, pushing open the doors to the Great Hall.

It was a dramatic entrance, but those were his favourite kind. Heads turned, necks craned, students pointed and whispered excitedly. The Gryffindors erupted into cheers. Sirius bowed and strolled forward.

At the head table, the professors called for order. Sirius reached the end of Gryffindor table.

"No one tried to take your place," a first year said.

He winked at the little girl. "That's because nobody can, love."

When the Hall quieted, the Headmaster rose to his feet. "In the spirit of friendly competition and in celebration of Hallowe'en," he said, "Hogwarts once again holds a pumpkin carving contest." With a wave of his arm, Dumbledore gestured at the four house tables. "Each representative has one hour to carve a pumpkin generously donated by Hagrid. When dinner is over, the judging will commence." He smiled at the four students standing. "You may begin."

The noise level in the Hall rose dramatically as three of the representatives lifted their wands and began using variations of the _Concisus _charm to carve. Sirius alone stood and contemplated the pumpkin. Four times the size of a normal gourd, this runt of Hagrid's pumpkin patch had a shape that reminded the boy of something.

He took a step back and tilted his head. Yes! There it was, his inspiration. Anticipation rushing through his veins, Sirius lifted his wand.

He didn't try to stay tidy or clear the mess as he went along. He concentrated on bringing the image he'd seen come to life. If strands of pumpkin covered his clothes or the house-mates who sat nearby, Sirius wasn't aware of it. His focus was on his work.

Before time ran out, he completed the final touch to his masterpiece. Sirius glanced up and saw James, Peter, and Remus rising from the bench, questioning looks on their faces.

Sirius laughed out loud. James grinned and hugged Lily, while Remus clapped Peter on the shoulder, smiling widely.

The Headmaster called time. Without thought, Sirius' gaze went directly to his Head of house. McGonagall was staring at his pumpkin, one hand lifted, concealing her mouth. Her eyes shifted to his. Her hand fell.

-

Hours later, Sirius was sitting with his mates at the top of the Astronomy tower, thinking about McGonagall's smile. His mother had never shown such pride in his accomplishments. He took a sip from a tarnished silver flask and passed it to James, asking, "D'you think Professor McGongall would adopt me, now that I'm disowned?"

"Course not, you're not an orphan, looby," said James. He didn't take a drink, but instead lifted the flask to examine it more closely. Beneath a glowing wand tip, the Black family crest shone dully.

"Did you nick that from your father?" asked Peter, taking the flask and tipping it back for a long swallow.

"It was bequeathed to me by my favourite uncle," Sirius said, reaching across to take the flask and another drink. "Favourite because he died and left me all his worldly posessions," he added, handing the whisky to Remus.

Remus took a sip. "Your idea to carve the pumpkin like a Greek vase was…inspired."

Sirius tried not to smirk. "Thank you. Did you like the geometric band I carved around the top?"

Peter said, "Hey, Moony, you promised to ask if the women in the forest danced like the ones carved on his pumpkin!" He grabbed the flask and said, "Why do I always have to ask the questions?"

Sirius snatched the whisky back. "Because you do it so charmingly!"

James started laughing. "Wormtail's in a nark because he never got to see them in person!"

Peter laughed along with his friends. Hopefully, he said, "Those women didn't actually look that good, did they?"

Sirius shook his head in pity. "They looked better."

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta love Fire Festivals. There was something about bonfires, and crowds of people dancing and mingling that appealed on a basic level.

Da would have none of it, closing his window and mind to the outside world. She'd hired a barmaid to cover in case he wanted to venture out in a wheelchair, but he'd refused.

"I'll nae be stared at," he'd said flatly.

Rosmerta understood pride, but she was tired of her father's unending negativity. If he didn't improve soon, she'd have to do what she'd threatened months ago. Hire a nurse.

Since she had the extra staff, Rosmerta decided to take a night off. On the second morning of the festival, she sent an owl to Hogwarts with a secret letter that read,

**I'm taking the night off to go to the Fire Festival. If you can sneak out without getting caught, I'd love to spend the evening with you. You could wear your hooded cloak and a mask, or borrow your friend's Invisibility Cloak. I don't care if people think I talk to myself or that I've got an illicit lover who can't be seen with me openly. I just want to be with you. **

She specified a time to meet, after dinner, when darkness would conceal identity, and students could retreat to their rooms without others taking notice.

When it came time to choose what to wear, Rosmerta picked out a red wool dress and matching shawl, to keep her warm enough not to need a cloak. It might be vain of her to enjoy Sirius' admiration so much, but she wasn't about to cover up unnecessarily.

Downstairs, she rushed to the door when she heard a knock. Callum, the short-order conjurer, looked up from the order he was plating to ask, "Got a date?"

She nodded and opened the door. A hooded figure stood on the doorstep. Rosmerta quickly slipped outside, smiling when Sirius pushed back the hood to reveal his black mask. "I'm so glad you're lips aren't covered."

His smile was wickedly appealing. "Really? Why is that?"

She answered by sliding her arms around Sirius' neck and reaching on tiptoe to kiss him.

"Uh…Rosmerta?"

While Sirus drew up his hood, she turned and said, "Yes, Callum?"

"Dorrie wants to know if she should close, or if you'll be back."

Her eyebrows rose. "Dorrie _asked _you that?"

The cook had a chuckle as gravelly as his voice. "No. She sent a note with an order."

"Tell her I'll be back to close," Rosmerta said, shaking her head over her assistant's continued shyness.

When Callum returned to the kitchen, Sirius said, "So that's your cook."

Rosmerta said, "Part-time. He's an artist who conjures to pay the bills."

"Huh." Silence fell. Rosmerta was about to ask Sirius what was wrong when he said, "I'm an artist too."

"Really?" she said. "What kind?" He mumbled something she had to strain to hear. "What was that? Portraits?"

"Pumpkins. I won the school carving contest yesterday."

"Congratulations!" she said, trying not to giggle. "What did you carve?"

"A Greek inspired motif…of women dancing."

Rosmerta stared. Sirius took advantage of her lips falling open in surprise to kiss her. She said, after several minutes, "Did you take any photographs?"

"Flashes went off, so I assume some little bugger got one for school records." He asked, "Would you like me to send you one?"

She nodded. "I'd like to see how you portrayed me."

Her pulse leapt at his smile. "You're beautiful."

Rosmerta sighed. "As much as I'd like to stay here kissing you, I want to dance with you around the bonfire more."

"_More?_"

He was so amusing, making her laugh with just the inflections he gave words. She nodded. "MmHmm, because I can kiss you after we dance."

Sirius took her hand and brought it to his lips. "What about during?"

She giggled. "We'll see."

"Aha, a challenge," he said.

Rosmerta tucked her arm through his. "You like challenges," she said.

"I adore them," he said, as they strolled to the bonfire on the outskirts of the village.

Couples were circling the fire, some in a sprightly dance in tune with the Gaelic music, others in everthing from a waltz to a slow sway. Sirius bowed and asked, "May I have this dance?"

"There's no one else I want as a partner," she answered.

His smile was a flash of white within the depths of his cowl. "Good, because I'm going to dance every dance with you." Sirius took Rosmerta's hand and led her into the circle.

She noticed a few patrons doing a double take when they saw her and didn't care. Let them wonder who her partner was. It was none of their business. Tomorrow she'd be back behind the bar, entrenched firmly in her role as the friendly barkeep who kept men at arm's length. Tonight, she was going to forget about responsibility and hold Sirius close.

-

* * *

- 

Sirius hummed as he entered the common room.

"Peter waited up as long as he could, then he fell asleep," said a disapproving female voice.

Sirius jerked in surprise when Jane rose from a chair and pointed stiffly to the boy asleep on a sofa. He said, "Sorry?"

"You should be sorry, making him worry about you." She leaned over to pat the sleeper on the arm. "Peter, wake up, he's returned."

Peter snorted and muttered, "Go back to sleep, Gran, don' wanna talk now."

Sirius watched, riveted, as she bent to kiss a podgy cheek. "It's Jane, Peter, wake up."

"J…Jane? Wha? Huh?" Peter lurched to an upright position, stammering, "I…I was sleeping?"

"Like a sweet little boy," Jane said.

Sirius coughed to hide a laugh. "Goodnight you two."

"Aren't you going to thank Peter for waiting up for you?"

The Panglossian enchantment was working fine now. Sirius said ironically, "Thanks, mate."

"Anything for a friend," Peter said, looking at Jane.

Sirius had to leave before he had nightmares instead of sweet dreams about Rosmerta.

He took the stairs two at a time.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Special thanks to **MagicalMischiefMakersInc. **for telling me when I asked that she'd prefer to have a shorter chapter rather than having to wait a week. Aside from having a cold, and Vacation Bible School this week (I'm not crafty, but I did crafts, go figure) I wrote a Sirius pov one shot that can be found in the Remus/Tonks romance category, since it goes along with my R/T fic. So if readers add **Spring Fever **to this chap...you'll have loads of Sirius-ness! The people I have to thank for reviewing last chapter were……...…...♥** 40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥** An Aspiring Author**♥** Ange de l'eau **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl**♥ **Elspeth Bates**♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie**♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms**♥** Limaree**♥** lovinpotter **♥ **Machiavelli Jr**♥** MagicalMischiefMakersInc **♥** MollyCoddles **♥**RahNee**♥ **RosePoser **♥ **Shadow-ofthe-Night35 **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113**♥** Sophia Loren **♥ **sunny9847 **♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon **♥** and **♥** Writer-In-Disguise **♥


	15. The Weather Woman

Chapter 15- The Weather Woman

-

The November wind rattled the windowpanes of Hogwarts, causing students to huddle further into their cloaks as they headed to class. Peter jumped when an icy blast shook the glass nearby, muttering, "The Weather Woman's in right temper today."

"The _Weather Woman?"_ Sirius asked laughingly, as they left the Divination Tower and headed for the main corridor. Peter would break off to climb the stairs to the Ancient Runes classroom, while Sirius would turn toward the dungeons.

Peter nodded vigorously. "Gran says she's fickle, that's why the weather changes so much."

"Did she say this during one of your midnight chats?"

"Yes! That's how I know it's true. She lies something awful when's she's awake."

Sirius chuckled over his friend's logic, and his belief in an old woman's superstition. Peter was an odd sort.

"Peter! Peter! Wait up!"

Jane the Pain was scurrying after them. Sirius said, "I'll see you later, mate," and strode off, away from the leech-like girl. Peter was revelling in her attention, but Sirius was tired of it. The enchantment was only supposed to make her see Peter in a good light…not cause blind adoration. What had gone wrong?

"Why the long face? Did Wormtail foretell a grisly fate for you in Divination?" James asked, after Sirius dumped his schoolbag on the floor beside him and slumped over the worktable.

"Yeah- long, painful, years of Jane Weston dogging our steps, calling "Peter! Wait up, darling!"

James laughed at the falsetto Sirius assumed to mimic Jane. "She does wear on the nerves." His gaze turned anxious. "You don't see Lily that way, do you?"

"Course not." Sirius waited until James smiled in relief to say, "You're the one who trails her, so maybe you'd better ask her friends if they mind hearing 'Lily darling, wait up'!"

Their chuckles trailed off when a voice behind them said, "At least you recognise that you're a laughingstock, Potter."

"Did you hear something, James?" asked Sirius. "Unpleasantly greasy, like a bug that needs squashing?"

"Our conversation is none of your concern, Snape," said James. "Move along."

The Slytherin curled his lip and started to walk past. Sirius said, "Hold up, you owe us a galleon."

"I owe you nothing," spat Snape.

Sirius' eyebrows rose. "Pumpkin carving contest ring a bell?"

A sneer twisted sallow features. "Betting is beneath me."

"You mean above you, since you have no money to bet," said Sirius, covering his chagrin with scorn. He should've known Peter was conning him, the rat!

James stood. "Move _along, _before I deduct house points!"

Snape gave them a malevolent glare and stalked back to his table.

Sirius muttered, "You should've given him detention."

"For what, making you feel stupid?"

"Yeah, and for being a humongous git," said Sirius.

James shook his head. "Sorry."

"How about Peter, then, he deserves detention for being a rotten liar."

"He was a brilliant liar, and Remus and I owe him Three Sugar Quills and a Peppermint Toad."

"What? No Ice Mice?" Sirius' tone was heavy with sarcasm.

James grinned. "He said they made him feel cannibalistic."

Sirius snorted. James snickered. Soon, they were covering their mouths, shoulders shaking, trying to avoid earning detention themselves. Around them, students opened jars of ingredients, preparing for the day's potion. Sirius read the directions on the blackboard and set to work.

Slughorn sat at his desk, writing. _Probably a letter to one of his former students,_ Sirius thought, _hitting them up for whatever he can wring out of them. _

"Psst…you need to chop that yarrow finer."

Sirius thanked James with a brief smile, and paid closer attention to his work. It was extremely difficult. Potions was his least favourite subject- worse than Divination.

If anyone asked his honest opinion, he'd say Potions was the perfect field, literally and metaphorically, for the anally retentive. To excel, meticulous, almost obsessive attention to detail was required. An extra drop of ingredient or not enough flame beneath the cauldron would ruin most solutions. Not that failure kept Sirius from occasional tests of creativity.

Slughorn did not share his philosophical attitude toward error, however. The professor often quipped, "The mark is for Exceeding Expectations…not _experimentation, _Mr. Black."

Sirius remained in the class for one reason only. It was an Auror requirement. He and James planned to go into Auror training after Hogwarts, and the quill levitators at the Ministry decreed Potions mandatory.

The boy sighed heavily while adding summer savory and evening primrose to the steaming cauldron. Although tempted to add a pinch more oxalis than the directions called for, Sirius refrained. He had a feeling Slughorn would have them test their potions to cure rashes by _causing _them, first. It would be the Slytherin thing to do, and slug that he was, the professor still deserved his title of Head of Slytherin house.

While he twiddled his thumbs, waiting for the solution to come to a boil, Sirius glanced around the dungeon, idly wondering if anyone else was as bored as he was. His classmates seemed content to stare into their cauldrons, except for Snape, who narrowed his eyes into slits and sneered when Sirius glanced his way.

_Baiting a dog…how rash._ Sirius laughed inwardly. He lowered the flame to bring the potion to a simmer and bent to retrieve his wand from the schoolbag.

"What are you doing?" James whispered.

"Nothing…yet…" Sirius answered. He palmed his wand, thumb holding the rod in place.

"I can't allow you to hex Snape," James said in a low, firm voice. It was very Head Boy.

Sirius grinned. "I'm not hexing _Snape."_

A look of comprehension dawned. James said, "In that case, I'll go return our extra ingredients to the student cupboard."

Sirius waited until James had walked away to furtively cast a spell. He returned his wand to the bag and checked the hourglass on the table. It was time to extinguish the fire and decant the potion. He smiled in anticipation.

At the head of the class, Professor Slughorn rose laboriously to his feet. An oily smile creased his face. "To properly test whether the rash potions are truly efficacious, each student will give his partner a rash." Slughorn chuckled. "Only on the hand, mind you, no full-body rashes, if you please."

Students laughed, and followed the teacher's instructions. Sirius and James' potions were both effective. At a table near the front of the classroom, a boy yelled, "What are you _doing_, Snape?"

The fumes of Snape's potion were causing him to act rashly, because Sirius had found the thought of a_ Temere_ hex seriously hilarious. Snickering over the puns, he watched Snape dump another ladle of potion on his tablemate's head. Immediately affected by the hex, Wilkes pushed Snape off his stool.

Sirius laughed along with the rest of the class to see Snape flat on his back, red-faced with embarrassment and fury.

"I think the colour is a slight improvement," James said.

"No, he's as ugly as ever," said Sirius, between bursts of laughter.

Snape struggled to his feet, pushing lank hair out of his face. He caught sight of Sirius and yelled, "YOU! You did this somehow, I know it!" Before Sirius could react, Snape pointed his wand and laughed maniacally. "How's this for _rash?"_

The hex was like nothing Sirius had ever felt before. Every inch of his torso felt on fire. There was only one way to end the agony. While Slughorn countered the spell on the Slytherin boys, Sirius tore off his robes and yanked down his tie, telling James, "Don't just stand there, dump your potion on me!"

-

* * *

- 

Sirius had a real talent for sketching. Rosmerta stared down at the letter in her hand and sighed. He'd meant to be amusing, drawing himself shirtless, tie hanging down, covered in potion while James held a cauldron suspended over his head. The sketch did make her smile.

It also made her drool. Not literally- she'd put her hand to the corner of her mouth to check- but figuratively. Even in a sketch, Sirius was just that gorgeous.

Rosmerta fell back on the bed, kissing the smiling mouth in the drawing. It had been two weeks since the Fire Festival, and five long days since he'd been able to sneak out to visit her. She wanted to see him so badly, she sighed again, before re-reading the last part of the letter.

**Since no one saw me hex the potion, Snape got detention and all I received was the amusement and admiration of my peers. **

_Amusement from the boys and admiration from the girls, I'll bet, _Rosmerta thought, with only the slightest twinge of jealousy. She couldn't blame the girls, but she did envy them seeing what she could only imagine from the sketch, and the memory of Sirius stripping off his tee in her kitchen.

She sat up when her father shouted her name. "I'll be right there, Da!" she called, stuffing the letter into the pillowcase.

Rosmerta had so many letters now; she stored them in a warded box beneath her bed, only keeping the most recent ones beneath her pillow. She didn't need to see the letter to remember how Sirius had ended his note.

**I'm marking off the days until I see you again. When I enter the Broomsticks, I'm going to count every smile you give me and later, I'm going to match them with kisses.**

She rushed down the corridor, smiling as she remembered the last word Sirius had written.

**Yours,**

"Yes Da?" Rosmerta said brightly, as she entered the room.

Diarmid held up a letter, scowling. "What is thae meaning of this?"

"What's that?"

The invalid held the letter slightly away to focus and read aloud, "Although my duties at the Ladies' Society are legion, I feel it my duty to render aid in your time of need." Crumpling the parchment, he hurled it angrily. Rosmerta said, "Mrs. Bouquet was a mediwitch before her marriage."

"Aye, twenty-five years ago!"

"Dad, I need help, and it's only a few hours a day."

"She's got a family- let her nurse them!"

Rosmerta smiled. "Her two girls live in Edinburgh, and her husband travels constantly on business. She's qualified, available…and she starts next week."

Diarmid pounded a fist on the coverlet. "I'll ward my door shut!"

"You can try," Rosmerta said briskly. She plumped his pillows and said, "I'm off to the bookshop this morning, is there anything you'd like to read about?"

"Wandless hexes."

A startled laugh escaped before Rosmerta could prevent it. She tried to say severely, "Aside from that."

"Birds…I see some out my window I can't identify. I'd like a book on birds."

"I'll bring it up with your lunch tray," Rosmerta promised, kissing her dad's cheek.

-

Fiona was in the midst of ringing up a book sale when Rosmerta entered _Buy the Book. _Her friend's smile froze when a young girl screeched, "MUM! MUM!"

"Ros, do me a favour- go down and see to Natalie while I finish up here," Fiona said.

"Sure," Rosmerta said, heading for the back of the shop. She'd been curious about her friend's ex-husband. Now she could see for herself.

Halfway down the stairs to the basement, she heard the little girl yell, "I don't care about stupid Science! I want to play with Emma!"

Rosmerta descended rapidly. "Hello, Natalie? Your mum asked me to come down…"

"Miss Rosmerta! Miss Rosmerta!" Natalie ran and flung her arms around Rosmerta's waist, crying, "Tell Daddy I don't want to do experiments. I don't want to die!"

"I…I'm sure the experiments are educational, not…uh…" Rosmerta floundered, smoothing damp strands away from a small, distraught face.

"Lethal?" a man's voice said.

Rosmerta glanced up to see a ghost floating toward her. Aside from being grey and translucent, she noticed that he was tall and thin, with dark hair. She also noticed he was wearing a posh suit. Jonathan had owned one just like it and bragged it cost more than some wizards made in a year. What kind of wizard wore a designer suit to perform a deadly experiment?

In response to her stare, the spectre frowned. "I merely suggested a series of tests to determine whether various substances were acid or base- nothing _poisonous."_

"Hear that, Natalie?" Rosmerta said, "Your father…"

"Is mean and I'm telling Mummy!"

Rosmerta watched the little girl dash up the stairs, feeling extremely awkward. She said, "Uh…nice meeting you, Mr. Fowl."

"Was it, Miss…Rosmerta?"

"Yes." Out of habit, she held out her hand, and then laughed self-consciously.

The ghost raised his brows and then put his hand through hers. She shivered at the cold tingle and gave a little wave before climbing the stairs.

Up in the café portion of the bookshop, Natalie was sitting on a stool, eating a chocolate chip biscuit. Fiona set a glass of milk down on the counter before looking up to ask, "Was Artie really torturing this child?"

"No," Rosmerta said. "He wanted to do a simple experiment."

"I hate experiments!" said Natalie after a long drink. A milk moustache marred her fierce scowl.

"I'll have another talk with your father," Fiona promised.

"May I go play with Emma?" asked Natalie, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Half an hour, then straight back to practice Gnommish," said Fiona.

"Gnommish?" Rosmerta asked curiously.

"Artie says only lesser minds limit themselves to human languages." Fiona shrugged.

"I guess I'm a _lesser mind _then," Rosmerta said laughingly.

"No you're not!" Natalie said, taking a quill out of her pocket. "Here, I'll teach you." She drew what looked like an early form of hieroglyphics on her napkin and held out the quill. "Copy that."

Rosmerta drew a tiny acorn and six other 'hieroglyphics', including a crab and a crescent moon. "So this is Gnommish. What does it say?" she said.

"I love you," said Natalie, hugging Rosmerta before running out the door.

Fiona grinned at the look on her friend's face. "Another adult is wound around a darling little finger."

Rosmerta said, "How do you ever tell her no?"

"Parental immunity- allows me to love her madly while resisting puppy dog eyes, most of the time."

"Does that mean there's such a thing as Lover's immunity?" Rosmerta mused.

"No," said Fiona. "They're pretty much impossible to resist."

"What's impossible to resist?" asked Hamish, walking into the café.

Fiona shot a wild-eyed look at Rosmerta before snatching a biscuit and holding it out. "Chocolate," she said.

Hamish took a bite and nodded. "Mmm…"

"Mmm…" Fiona echoed, before clearing her throat. She said, "Did you come to pick up your book?"

"Yes, but I'll wait until you help Rosmerta. Ladies first, I always say." He smiled and licked chocolate off his thumb.

Rosmerta tried not to laugh at the way Fiona watched the man raptly.

"Oh…yes…wh…what kind of book were you looking for, Ros?" Fiona asked.

"Birds of Scotland."

Fiona straightened. "Right this way," she said businesslike.

On the other side of the shop, she directed Rosmerta to a shelf and whispered, "Was Hamish making some kind of sexual innuendo back there?"

"Do you think he was?"

After thinking it over, Fiona said, "No, of course not- he's not the type."

Rosmerta picked a book with large colour pictures. Before she walked toward the register, she said, "Maybe not, but he was looking at you when he licked that finger."

-

* * *

- 

As Saturday neared, rumours began to spread. Students whispered that if the rain drenching the school for most of the week did not let up, the Headmaster would cancel Hogsmeade Weekend.

Thursday night, Sirius lay in bed, gripped by a strange, unfamiliar feeling. With a sense of dawning horror, he realised what it was- worry. He called out, "Peter!"

"Go back to bed, Gran," the boy said.

Muffled laughter filled the dark chamber.

"He's already asleep," James said.

"Perhaps we can help," said Remus.

Sirius sat up in bed. "Promise not to laugh."

"I promise," Remus said.

"Me too," said James.

Sirius opened his bed curtains. "We need to find a way to pacify the Weather Woman."

"_What?" _both friends replied.

Peter woke up and said, "Wha?"

Sirius swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Peter's Gran believes in some supernatural Weather Woman who changes the weather with her moods, so I think we should find a way to change her mood to sunny and mild!"

"_Lumos," _James said, leaving the bed with his wand held up to light his way. He stopped beside Sirius' bed. "Funny, you don't _look _as mental as you sound."

Remus and Peter walked over. The three boys sat on Sirius' bed, gazing at him expectantly. He said, "Do you want to be stuck at school this weekend?"

"_No,"_ all three of his friends said.

Sirius told them, "Then we have to act quickly and _boldly."_

"What did you have in mind?" James asked suspiciously.

Sirius smiled persuasively, "Let me tell you…"

-

Friday night, after dinner, when Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins gathered around fireplaces, bundled up against the damp chill, Gryffindors danced the conga in bare feet and sandals, dressed in summer clothing. Sirius, tending the makeshift bar in a flowered shirt and swim trunks, handed a virgin daiquiri to a third year and grinned.

His 'Last Fling of Summer' party was a roaring success, thanks to Flighty, house elf extraordinaire. He had her to thank for the decorations, the flower leis, and the food and drink.

With the furniture removed or pushed against the walls, there was room for James and Remus to hold the limbo pole for their more adventurous housemates. In one corner, Peter kept the Orpheus Orbs spinning island music, Jane hovering by his side.

When Lily and Dorcas approached, Sirius admired the pretty picture they made in their sundresses and asked, "What can I get you ladies? Don't ask for alcohol, though, we're all virgins tonight."

Lily shook her head, "I won't even dignify that remark."

Dorcas said, "We're here to take over. Your mates are challenging you to limbo."

In a flash, Sirius came around the bar and began to sway to the music. "Prepare to be awed and delighted."

The girls laughed, the cheeky wenches.

Sirius had just completed his second pass beneath the pole when his clapping, enthusiastic audience became ominously silent. Sirius levered himself upright…and met the steely gaze of his Head of House.

"What is the meaning of this?" Professor McGonagall asked. A first year began to cry.

"This is a Gryffindor house experiment for Muggle Studies," Sirius said quickly. "We hope to show that when primitive Muggles gave offerings and held ceremonies to change the weather, the wizards and witches amongst them, by participating, were in actuality working a type of sympathetic magic."

Thin lips twitched at the corners. McGonagall lifted a brow and said, "So, if your experimentis a success, then tomorrow's weather will be sunny and mild."

Outside, lightning flashed. "Yes," Sirius said, with as much assurance as he could muster.

Thunder boomed, causing gasps to echo throughout the chamber. "Very well," said the professor. "If the weather changes for the better, this _experiment _will be excused. If it does not, the entire house loses Hogsmeade privileges." She looked down at the sand covering the floor, lips pursing. She said, "In the meantime, clear this mess and get to your beds."

Shocked intakes of breath and whispers abounded as the professor left. The same people who had cheered him on earlier now shot daggers at Sirius and muttered beneath their breath. Outwardly confident, he pinned on a smile and strolled to an unlit fireplace. In a voice that was only a little higher than normal, he called, "Flighty!"

-

In the early hours of the morning, Sirius woke in a panic. He didn't hear anything! Then it dawned on him. He didn't hear _anything! _No patter of rain, no thunder- nothing! He jumped out of bed and ran to the window. The sun was rising on a clear day. He laughed and began to sway, humming an island song.

-

* * *

A/N: _Carry me always, carry me well._ _I am thy teacher of herb and spell..._is the coded message in Gnommish from **Artemis Fowl**, the character to which 'Artie' bears a superficial, and hopefully amusing, resemblance. I used a Gnommish translator to learn how to write I love you and borrowed the 'lesser minds' crack from Artemis, who would probably sneer at my unwillingness to steal it outright:D. The readers whose reviews made me smile outright were………...…...♥** 40/16 **♥** alix33**♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Elspeth Bates**♥** Emmas Padawon **♥ **FemmeDraconis**♥** FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms**♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** MollyCoddles **♥ **RahNee **♥ **Shadow-ofthe-Night35 **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥ **sunny9847 **♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon **♥** and **♥** WriterMerrin **♥

* * *


	16. Right Here Waiting

Chapter 16- Right Here Waiting

-

Sirius dressed quickly as possible and slipped out of the dorm room, bounding down the stairs and dashing through the common room.

"Is Peter up yet?" Jane asked, rising from a sofa.

The girl was like a terrier after a rat. The image made Sirius smile as he threw over his shoulder, "No, he's still sleeping."

"I could wake him," Jane said eagerly.

Sirius paused at the entry to say, "I wouldn't. We've a ward across the doorway."

Jane's eyes grew huge. "A ward? What would happen if I crossed it?"

He assumed a serious mien. "I hope you never find out."

In the corridor, the Fat Lady heard his snickering and said, "Isn't it a bit early for mischief?"

He looked up and winked. "For some things, it's never too early."

She tittered behind a hand. "Run along, you naughty boy."

Sirius blew a kiss and then began jogging for the side entrance. He could see his breath as he crossed the grounds to Hagrid's hut, but didn't mind the cold. Nature's chill was nothing compared to his mother's icy stare.

He went round the back and pounded on the door, calling, "Hagrid! It's Sirius! Open up!"

Sirius jumped when a voice behind him said, "What's wrong, lad?" Hagrid stood holding a bowl that looked small in his giant hands. "Been feeding the Thestrals," he said, nodding toward the blood-rimmed container.

Sirius said, "I need to know if house elves have a favourite flower, and if they do, where I can get them." He grinned. "I owe Flighty more than thanks."

"I heard about yer party, young scamp," Hagrid said with a chuckle.

Sirius laughed. "How fast news travels."

"I was having a drin…discussion…with Dumbledore, when Professor McGonagall came ter tell him about yer _project _for Muggle Studies, but the grapevine will wind through the other houses by breakfast, no doubt." Hagrid paused and then said, "I remember a big ter-do in the kitchens once, over a posy of faery phlox, come ter think of it."

"Faery phlox…found in a faery ring, I expect," said Sirius.

Hagrid shifted his weight from one foot to the other in the expectant silence. After a few moments, he said, "I s'pose if yeh were helping me feed the Thestrals, and we just happened ter come across the flowers…"

"Purely by accident," Sirius agreed.

"Then there'd be no harm picking a few."

"No harm at all."

Hagrid nodded. "Right. Let's be off."

Sirius trotted to keep up with the groundskeeper's giant strides. "Thanks, Hagrid."

"Don't go thanking me yet." The older man gave a low, rumbling laugh. "Yeh'll have ter earn those flowers."

Sirius' brow rose as they entered the Forbidden forest. "Earn?" A sense of unease offset his curiosity about the flowers. Were centaurs watching them, arrows notched, waiting for them to step off the path?

"Faery phlox don't grow like mushrooms, boy."

"No?" Sirius said vaguely, distracted by a rustling sound in the bushes. Human senses were so limiting. He couldn't tell what was making the noise, and had to resist the impulse to blast apart the bushes with his wand.

"No. See?"

Sirius saw the circle where seven women from the village had danced. Ringed in grasses and mushrooms, no flowers bloomed within the ring. Sirius said, "How do I earn the flowers?"

"Got any silver? Faeries like silver."

"No."

Hagrid pulled his beard thoughtfully. "D'yeh have any precious stones?"

"Nary a one."

"Hmm…guess you'll have ter sing fer the flowers, then."

"Sing what?"

Hagrid thought for a second then waved his hand. "Something faery-like."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Falsetto?"

Hagrid blinked, and then his laughter boomed, causing the long grasses to wave. "Not that, I meant somethin' grand and stirring- or comic. Got big funny bones in wee bodies, them faeries."

Sirius wasn't about to sing about Rosmerta in front of Hagrid. Not the original song Layla, either. He briefly considered singing the school song, but he'd never really cared for it. Probably because he'd heard too many tone deaf schoolmates wailing it to whatever daft tune they liked.

There _was _a song, if the faeries enjoyed humour. Sirius cleared his throat and stepped into the circle, singing, "_Oh many, many years ago when I was twenty-three…" _

Hagrid's jaw dropped in shock, but Sirius kept belting out the zany lyrics with relish until he ended with, "_It sounds funny, I know, but it really is so…Oh, I'm my own grandpa!" _

Sirius whirled around when he felt a sharp tug on his hair. There was no one behind him, but he heard a male voice say, "Humph…I've heard better."

A feminine giggle that sounded like bells rang out. "I've never _seen _better, Faylinn."

"You're easily impressed, Ariella," said the unseen Faylinn. The faery raised his voice and demanded, "What do you want from us, human?"

Sirius bowed. "Faery phlox, if you please."

"He pleases me with his lovely manners," Ariella said.

Sirius flashed a charming smile in the direction of her voice.

Faylinn's tone was less than charmed. "For what purpose?"

"A gift of thanks, for a friend, a house elf," said Sirius.

Both faeries began to peal with laughter, causing Sirius to laugh too, even while he wondered what they were laughing at. His eyes widened when the two faeries materialised before him. They were both fair of face and hair, wearing green. Faylinn, Sirius presumed, smirked as he said, "It amuses us to grant your request."

Ariella waved and flitted down to the grass. Wherever her fingers trailed, fragrant white flowers bloomed. Giggling, she vanished from sight. Faylinn shook his head and followed.

Sirius knelt and began plucking the small, sweet-smelling flowers. "Now will you accept my thanks?" he said to Hagrid, smiling.

"I'm not sure yeh should be thanking me," Hagrid said. "Them faeries are curious folk, always laughing, but they seemed to be laughing at yeh, not yer song, if yeh catch my meaning."

Sirius used a long blade of grass to tie up the large bunch of flowers gathered. "I don't mind being laughed at. I got what I wanted."

"Then let's be on our way," said Hagrid.

-

Sirius hurried, wanting to give Flighty the bouquet before the breakfast rush. His entrance into the kitchen, usually unnoticed, on this morning drew every eye in the room. He raised the flowers and said to the chamber at large, "Hello, I'm looking for Flighty."

Gasps seemed to echo off the stones, loud and dramatic. In the uneasy silence that followed, the boy heard a familiar voice say, "Oh, Sirius."

He tried to smile as his elf friend walked slowly toward him, her eyes big and sombre. She sounded like Mrs. Potter, when he'd weeded her back garden, and pulled up burgeoning plants along with the weeds. The bottom dropped out of Sirius' stomach when he heard an elf whisper, "_Courting_ flow- ow! Why'd you…"

"Shh…he'll _hear _you!" another elf said.

Hell. No wonder the faeries had laughed their tiny heads off- he was thanking a friend with elfin _courting flowers!_ He thought quickly. Before Flighty could tell him 'thank you, but I only date elves' or worse, accept the flowers in order not to hurt his feelings, Sirius said, "These are from Surly."

The room broke into a storm of whispers. Sirius plastered a smiled onto his face and kept it there while the Slytherin elf marched forward. Flighty watched the elf approach with a hopeful expression. "Are the flowers really from you?"

Surly snatched the bouquet, narrowing his eyes into malevolent slits at Sirius before turning to Flighty with a hint of a smile. "Yes. Will you accept them?"

Sirius held his breath along with the rest of the elves in the kitchen. Flighty took the flowers. She said softly, "Yes."

The boy didn't sigh along with the more romantic elves, but he did feel as though he'd survived a killing curse. Relieved more than he could express, Sirius said, "Congratulations, you two. Surly, you're a lucky elf, Flighty, you deserve only the best. Goodbye."

He lunged for the door handle and stumbled into the outer corridor in his haste to leave. Once he'd righted himself, Sirius hustled back to Gryffindor house, praying his mates never found out.

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta tried not to watch the clock. Sirius would be there at noon, and checking the time wouldn't make the hour go by faster. She smiled and handed a student a butterbeer. He was a first-time customer. She could always tell. It was the look-simultaneously proud and nervous. The boy smiled back and said, "Professor Sprout said you were the best student she's ever had."

"That was nice of her to say," said Rosmerta.

"Did you like pubs more than plants, then?" the boy asked curiously.

Rosmerta shook her head, thinking, _No, I liked a boy more than plants._ She said,"Do you like plants?"

"They're okay. I like your pub though. It's ace!"

"Thank you," she said, turning to serve another customer.

It was a man, not a boy- a wizard with white-blond hair and the pale, classic features of a statue. "Still thrilling schoolboys?" he drawled, in a voice cool and smooth as marble. Pale eyes flickered over her like a serpent's tongue.

She pretended he was just another customer. "May I help you, Sir?"

"Come, come," he said. "We're old friends. Call me Lucius."

"Acquaintances," she said, "What can I get you, Mr. Malfoy?"

He looked amused. "Aside from a few moments of your time? A glass of ale." His eyes lowered briefly, and then lifted. "Full-bodied: I've developed a taste for it."

Rosmerta served him an ale heavy with hops and a whisper of citrus. She said, "I can't leave the bar now, but in thirty minutes I have another server coming in. I'll meet you in my office then."

"Very well." Malfoy took his ale to a corner table. Slytherin students gathered around him.

_Future Death Eaters, _Rosmerta thought sadly. Lucius Malfoy used his position on the board of governors to recruit for Voldemort, claiming to 'care for student welfare.' The Slytherins were listening intently to the man drop Ministry gossip like breadcrumbs. They appeared eager to gobble up the power and influence Malfoy offered. Snape was one of them. She sighed and looked away.

-

"Am I late? Sorry. I couldn't tear myself away from a book," said Maisie, tying on a purple apron as she walked behind the bar.

"_Chronicles of Narnia _or _Redwall?_" called Dorrie, in between serving customers.

"I read other books," Maisie hotly retorted.

The friends' bickering amused Rosmerta, but a few of the younger patrons looked alarmed. She quickly said, "You're fine, and I like the apron, matches your hair." Rosmerta topped a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and dusted it with cocoa powder. She handed the mug to a strapping Hufflepuff boy with a smile. He blushed and ducked his head shyly.

While she took off her apron and prepared to go on break, Rosmerta asked, "What were you reading?"

"Redwall," Maisie said, sending an order slip winging back to the kitchen, calling, "Scradge down!" to let Callum know it was on its way.

"If only you could find a bloke named Matthias," Dorrie teased.

"If only you'd talk to Callum before I decide to give him a go," Maisie shot back.

Foam spilt over Dorrie's hand as she stared, stricken. "You wouldn't," she said.

Rosmerta took the butterbeer from her lovesick employee, gave it to the waiting student, and said, "Of course she wouldn't- his name's not Matthias. Now stop nattering and start working. I'll be in my office if you need me."

"_Yes, Madam Rosmerta!"_ the cheeky girls chorused.

Rosmerta shook her head as she slipped through the crowd at the side of the bar. The bells on the front door jingled. She was tempted to look, but forced herself not to. Sirius wouldn't be there for another half hour, and she had Lucius to deal with.

"In a hurry to get me alone?" a voice said behind her.

_Speak of the devil… _

"No, in a hurry to get this meeting over with," Rosmerta said, without turning or slowing her pace. She opened the door for her visitor and waved him to a seat.

He sat behind the desk.

She leaned back against the door and crossed her arms.

Lucius crossed his legs. "It's the only comfortable seat," he said, waving disdainful fingers at the two wooden chairs on the other side of the desk. "Those have no cushion, and look dusty."

Rosmerta had the craziest urge to laugh. "Merlin forbid you soil those fancy robes."

He said, "You always did see things my way."

She said, "Why are you here?"

"Wilkes was less than pleased to have his bid to join the inner circle rejected. He's been asking questions, trying to determine the source of the information used against him." Lucius smiled thinly. "I'm here to make sure our pact still holds."

"You know it does."

He reached for a sheet of parchment and a quill. "Prove it. Try to write, 'I told Lucius Malfoy all my ex-lover's dirty little secrets.'"

She crossed to the desk and took the quill. Rosmerta bent over the parchment. She barely managed to write 'I told' before her hand shook so hard the nib broke and ink spattered.

Lucius took her hand in his. "I don't usually tolerate soiled things," he said with a slight smile, "but this is a lovely sight." He waved the ink stains away and brought her hand to his lips.

Rosmerta pulled her hand away. "Save it for your fiancée."

"Future fiancée," Lucius said with a trace of annoyance. "Narcissa's father wants more money, and I'm disinclined to give it."

"And you haven't persuaded the girl to tell her father's secrets?" Rosmerta said. "Are you losing your touch?"

Lucius stared at her with an arrested expression on his face. "Malfoys never lose their touch." He moved around her to open the door. "What an _inspiring_ visit this has been."

"Please feel free never to repeat it," she said, walking as fast as she could away from him.

-

* * *

- 

Sirius felt like a dog straining at the leash all morning, when he should have felt at ease. He'd been able to sneak back into the dorm, and Jane had forgotten about seeing him in the common room, in her joy that she and Peter were both wearing blue jumpers.

The usually enjoyable round of shopping tried his patience to the limit. Everyone else in the group was paired up, and eyeing him as if they pitied his solo status. Sirius didn't mind the sympathy, but the unsubtle attempts to pair him up were another matter.

In Honeydukes, Lily called Sirius over to introduce the Hufflepuff prefect he'd met briefly after a detention.

"Sophia loves Acid Pops too," Lily said.

"Yes, I do," the blonde girl said with a bright smile.

Sirius said, "Really? Did you ever burn a hole in your tongue?"

"Um, no." Sophia looked startled.

Sirius made a face. "I did. Did you know there was a membrane under there called a frenulum? Bleeds awful, it does. I had blood gushing down my chin, dripping on the floor. Took a month to grow back all the way, and even now," he said, sticking his tongue out to the side and pointing, "'ou 'an 'ill 'ee 'ough i'."

"Oh, my, I'm sorry." Sophia looked at the Acid Pops in her hand. She said, "I'm going to put these back. I don't fancy them anymore."

"That's not all she doesn't fancy anymore," Lily muttered, watching the girl scurry away. She looked at Sirius, lips twitching. "Did you really burn a hole in your tongue?"

"No, Reggie did. Bled like a stuck pig, too."

Lily hid her mouth behind her hand, but her eyes were laughing. "How awful."

Sirius grinned. "I need chocolate to recover from the traumatic memory."

-

After Honeydukes, Sirius turned off a friend of Dorcas' in the music shop by telling her about his favourite band, the Sex Pistols. In the bookshop, he avoided a chat with Jane's Arithmancy partner by clutching his stomach and asking where the lav was.

On the way to the Broomsticks, Peter walked beside James and held out his hand. Sirius laughed when his best mate made a sour face and gave the other boy a galleon.

"I knew Sirius wouldn't go along with matchmaking, but I refused to profit from it," Remus said.

"Thanks," James said, "Now I can scrape my remaining sickles together and see if I can afford to buy my girlfriend lunch."

Lily smiled. "Maybe I should buy my boyfriend lunch."

James looked intrigued. "Never had a girlfriend buy me lunch before."

"You never had a girlfriend before," Peter said matter-of-factly.

Sirius was still chuckling when he entered the pub. He was there earlier than expected, but that only meant Rosmerta would see him earlier, the fortunate woman. He saw her leaving the bar and waited for her to glance up and smile. She kept walking to the side of the pub, heading to her office.

"Out of my way," an arrogant voice demanded.

Sirius looked over to see Lucius Malfoy use a pretentious ivory-topped cane to clear his path…toward Rosmerta's office.

"Do you want to order or grab a table?" James asked.

It took Sirius a moment to comprehend the question. "I'll get the table," he said.

Instead of getting a table in the back of the pub, Sirius grabbed one with a clear view of the office corridor. Dorcas and Remus scooted their chairs together to make room for Peter and Jane on their side. Lily sat beside Sirius and asked, "Are you feeling all right? You look…upset."

Upset? Why should he be upset? Because one of the worst bastards ever to come out of Slytherin house was following Rosmerta back to her office? Sirius made an effort to relax and say, "Headache. I didn't have any coffee this morning."

Lily nodded. "Caffeine withdrawal, I've seen it before. My sister Petunia is a monster when she doesn't have coffee."

Dorcas smiled. "Your sister is a monster even _with _coffee."

The girls began sharing Petunia stories. Sirius smiled when he saw Remus smiling, but otherwise kept his attention on the clock. Every minute that Rosmerta spent with Malfoy darkened his mood. When James returned with sandwiches and butterbeer, Sirius forced a few bites down.

The moment he saw Rosmerta exit the corridor, Sirius told his friends, "I've got a headache. I need some fresh air."

He listened with half an ear to expressions of concern and advice. Malfoy strolled back to the group of Slytherins waiting for him, but Rosmerta stood near the end of the bar, staring at a table of Gryffindors. Sirius stood and gave her a meaningful look before leaving.

Outside, he chanted a Disillusionment charm and strode around the building to the kitchen door. When Rosmerta stepped outside, Sirius said, "You seemed surprised to see me. Were you hoping to get rid of Malfoy before I walked in?"

Her head turned in the direction of his voice. "Yes."

He laughed harshly. "At least you're honest."

Rosmerta took a step forward, holding out a hand, seeking him. "I didn't ask Lucius here, he dropped by."

He circled her wrist with his fingers. "And you _had _to have a private chat with _Lucius_, is that it?"

"Yes."

Sirius pulled her closer. "What did you talk about- or maybe he didn't want to talk. Maybe he just wanted this." Sirius let go of Rosmerta's wrist to take her into his arms.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: First the Mimbulus Mimbletonia joke, now the Acid Pop mishap. Ron is an inspiring character, lol. The readers who inspired last week with their reviews were…….♥** 40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **An Aspiring Author **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Emmas Padawon **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥** lilmispris**♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥ **RahNee **♥** ronandhermy **♥ **Shadow-ofthe-Night35 **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥** Sophia Loren **♥ **Stinky Stan **♥ **sunny9847 **♥ and ♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon **♥


	17. Only We Know

Chapter 17- Only We Know

-

Sirius knew Rosmerta hadn't snogged Malfoy in her office, he just wanted to hear her say it. How kissing her breathless was going to accomplish that, he had no clue- but it had worked for that bloke in her romance novel. After a ravening…or maybe ravishing…kiss, Rose had breathily confessed her passion for Simeon.

Rosmerta was currently demonstrating her passion by throwing her arms around his neck and plastering her body to his. Her lips pressed against the corner of Sirius' mouth, and then slid over, moulding to his.

He wondered dazedly how she'd be at darts- she had good aim.

She was a damn good kisser, too. Sirius, caught up in the embrace, forgot his plan and enjoyed the sensation of Rosmerta ravishing _him_ with kisses.

They were both breathing heavily when he said, "I've never been jealous like this before. I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Rosmerta said with a smile. "Is there somewhere we can go? I feel strange talking to an invisible boyfriend. I want to see your face."

Although she couldn't see it, Sirius knew Rosmerta would hear the grin in his voice. "Come with me."

The back door opened. The short-order conjurer, Callum, stuck his head out. He looked at Rosmerta's outstretched hand clasping air. "Are you still on break?"

"Tell the girls I'll be back in an hour," Rosmerta said.

Callum nodded, shot another glance at his boss' hand, and returned to the kitchen.

"Will you have to give a pay rise to keep him from talking?" Sirius asked jokingly.

"He won't gossip," Rosmerta said. Her lips turned up at the corners in a way that made Sirius want to kiss her again. "If it had been Dorrie or Maisie, however…"

Sirius chuckled. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he said, leading her across the street, down past shops and homes to reach a house infamous across Britain, due to several Quibbler articles.

Rosmerta didn't gasp at the sight of the Shrieking Shack. She sighed. "Look at the gardens. They must have been beautiful, once. Now they're abandoned and overgrown."

He slipped his arm around her waist. "Let's go inside."

She said, "How do suggest we do that? The windows are boarded up and the entrances are sealed."

"We'll make our own entrance."

He steered Rosmerta to the back of the house. She said, "I bet you're good at that, making an entrance."

Sirius concentrated on releasing the wards on the secret entrance. He opened the small, seamless, 'door' in the side of the house, waiting for her to enter before saying, "I'm not the only one. I remember all eyes turning to a certain Hufflepuff who was always late to the Hall for dinner."

Rosmerta gave a startled laugh. "I had patrol, I wasn't doing it on purpose, and I hardly think _all eyes _turned."

Inside the dusty shack, Sirius disengaged the charm and became visible. "Mine did."

Rosmerta gave him a soft, smiling look. She said, "You've always been sweet."

He narrowed his eyes. "_Sweet?" _

"Mmhmm. You didn't tell anyone what you saw in the library- that was sweet."

Sirius countered, "That was self-preservation. Your boyfriend was a vindictive Slytherin bastard...like _Malfoy._"

Rosmerta said, "_That_ was self-preservation. Jonathan kept sabotaging my jobs, trying to make me come back to him. Lucius offered me work at one of his clubs."

"In exchange for what?"

She bit her lip. "I can't say. I made a pact. I can tell you it wasn't for sexual favours. I'm not his type."

Sirius found that hard to believe, but then again, his own parents got more excited over the family tapestry than each other. He said, "Why did Malfoy need to see you today?"

Her lips twisted. "He wanted to make sure our deal still held."

Sirius said, "I'd starve before I made that kind of pact." He didn't realise how his words sounded until Rosmerta backed away.

"I guess I don't have your lofty principles," she said.

"I didn't mean it that way."

She half smiled. "I know you didn't."

Sirius raked a hand through his hair. "I ruined the mood, didn't I?"

Rosmerta's lips curved. "_The mood?"_

He nodded. "I bring you to this…" Sirius made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "…secluded, romantic location, intending on luring you into playing Hide and Seek, and now, instead of letting me hunt you down and snog you, you probably want to hunt me down and hex me." His tone was self-mocking.

Rosmerta said, "Will we both use Disillusionment charms?"

Sirius asked hopefully, "Do you want to?"

"I want to find out how good you are when you have to sense and _feel _your way."

A roguish smile spread across Sirius' face. "I'm very, very good."

Rosmerta looked him up and down. "Prove it."

Sirius leered playfully. "I will."

"Count to one hundred?" Rosmerta asked. When he nodded, grinning, she turned and sprinted from the room.

Since he knew the Shack like the back of his hand, Sirius decided to earn points with his girlfriend by counting slowly, "One…two…three…" His head cocked to the side when he heard the creaking of the stairway. "Muted her footsteps, clever," he said admiringly, resuming his count.

"_Ready or not, here I come!" _Sirius called after reaching one hundred, using a Sonorous charm to project his voice. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and blinked. He'd forgotten to use a Disillusionment charm!

Sirius remedied the oversight and headed directly for the stairs. He considered avoiding the boards that creaked, but figured it would be more fun if she could hear him coming. Upstairs, he padded down the corridor, making no effort to muffle his steps.

In the bedroom furthest from the stairway, Sirius walked in and glanced around. He didn't expect to find her here. The room was small and had only a broken bed inside. His search was cursory at best.

In the next room, Sirius kicked the rickety ottoman Peter always hid beneath when they played on full moons. Did the worm-brain think whoever was seeking would overlook it, because it had been used so many times before? Merlin, the rat needed some sense shaken into him. Maybe Jane the Terrier would do it.

Sirius had to restrain the urge to transform- his senses were nowhere near as acute in human form. If he couldn't hear Rosmerta, or see her, the only senses he had left to use were smell and touch. The odours of dust and rot blocked out scent, so he had to feel his way. As he walked into the room closest to the stairs, Sirius held his arms outstretched, hands moving back and forth to catch Rosmerta. He didn't expect her to be hiding in such an obvious place, but if she'd anticipated that…well, he'd outfox the fox.

-

* * *

- 

The adrenaline rushing through her body was incredible. Waiting for Sirius to enter the room she was hiding in, Rosmerta had to make a conscious effort to breathe quietly. The first time she'd heard Sirius' footsteps on the stairs, she'd gasped. That was what he wanted, no doubt.

She'd hidden in the room by the stairs because it was the obvious choice. Rosmerta counted on Sirius thinking it _too _obvious, and moving on without doing more than a brief search of room.

As she listened to him move from the end of the corridor, checking each room, her heart rate accelerated dramatically. Their 'game' was almost embarrassingly exciting. She was twenty-one, ran a pub, and yet was turned on by a game of Hide and Seek.

_But look who's doing the seeking…_

Why did cheeky inner voices always pick the worst times to give their two knuts?

_In for a penny, in for a pound, Muggles say. I say let him catch you and see what happens!_

The idea was tempting, but Rosmerta wasn't going to give in so easily. If Sirius wanted to snog her, he had to catch her.

When she heard the floorboard outside the room creak softly, every muscle in her body tensed. She saw the door open, and held her breath. Disillusionment wasn't true invisibility, so when Sirius moved, it was possible to detect a subtle shift in the room he was blending with.

Rosmerta thought for a moment that Sirius was going to do a token search and leave. She'd chosen to stand beside the boarded up window instead of crouching beside the trunk at the end of the bed or squeezing into the space between the wall and the wardrobe because it was the equivalent of hiding in plain sight. He shouldn't have discovered her…but he did.

She breathed shallowly while he approached. Her mind was racing. She'd hidden based on how she thought Sirius would think and act…had he figured that out? There was only one thing left to do- run for it.

Rosmerta broke to the right and then ran for the door.

"Hey!" Sirius yelled laughingly. "Come back here!"

"I'm still hiding!" she called over her shoulder.

Sirius' footsteps clattered down the stairs after her. Since her steps were muted, and the lower level of the house was dimmer than the upper floor, she took a chance and darted into what had been the dining room. Unlike the other parts of the house, not a stick of furniture remained. Rosmerta stood still in the centre of the floor, waiting to see if she'd fooled Sirius into thinking she hid in another room.

"Got you," Sirius whispered, as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her back against his chest.

Rosmerta gave a startled shriek. "How did you sneak up on me?" she demanded, trying to twist out of his grasp.

"Muting charm."

"What? You drove me crazy hearing your footsteps on _purpose_?"

Sirius laughed. "How did I drive you crazy?"

"Let me go and I'll show you!"

She whirled around when he released her, stepping toward him eagerly. Too eagerly- she crashed into him, unbalancing Sirius and sending them both to the floor.

"Oomph!" Sirius said.

Rosmerta stretched her hand toward the sound. She touched silky hair and gingerly ran her fingers through it, leaning over the prone body she could only feel beside her. "Are you hurt?"

"Nothing a kiss won't make better."

She stifled a giggle and kissed his hair.

"Lower."

Rosmerta bent to kiss Sirius again. Her lips brushed his nose.

"Almost there."

What woman could resist that coaxing tone? Not her- Rosmerta sought Sirius' mouth and sighed when she found it. He really knew how to use those gorgeous lips of his.

"Closer," he whispered, drawing her body over to lie on his. His hands caressed down her back and over her backside. She rolled to the side and pulled Sirius on top, kissing him hotly as she slid her hands down his back.

"Oh Merlin," she moaned, as Sirius began kissing his way down her throat. "I've become a grab-ass, just like those twits in romance novels." His husky chuckle caused her fingers to clench what they were holding a little tighter.

He said, "It's my animal magnetism. You're helpless against it."

That was a quote from her novel! She felt him shaking with silent amusement and pinched him.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Did you pinch my _cheek_ for being cheeky?"

Rosmerta held back giggles. "You didn't see it, doesn't count, punny boy."

"Two can play that game," he said, trailing his fingers across her chest.

It was strange to gaze up into shadows instead of a face, and yet...it was easier, too. She didn't have to worry Sirius would see too much if he looked into her eyes. That he'd know how she longed to feel more than his hands on her skin.

Sirius' fingers slid into her bra.

Voices rang out in the shack.

"_Is this your idea of a romantic rendezvous, James?"_

"_Aw, Lily, you said you'd snog me anywhere- why not a haunted house?" The boy's voice dropped suggestively, "How about playing Hide and Seek?"_

Rosmerta's whole body stiffened. Was she one in a long line of girls brought to the Shack? She tried to push Sirius off her. He put his lips to her ear and whispered, "Let's edge toward the doorway. When they go upstairs, we'll leave."

He pulled her up. Rosmerta attempted to yank her hand out of Sirius', but he held on. In the other room, Lily said, "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"I've never brought a girl here before," James said earnestly. "None of us have. It's our secret place."

"Then why did you bring me?" Lily asked.

"You're special."

Sirius' fingers tightened around Rosmerta's. She felt like a jealous witch. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it in apology.

The couple in the other room weren't talking, so they had to be snogging. Rosmerta smiled. She'd bet they'd be playing Hide and Seek when they came up for air.

"I'll play, but you're hiding, and I'm seeking," Lily said.

"What will you do when you find me?" James asked.

"You'll see," Lily answered.

James laughed. "Close your eyes, no peeking, count to one hundred- _Go!"_

Rosmerta didn't hear footsteps, so the boy must've used a muting charm. When the girl finished counting, she called, "Ready or not, I'm coming to get you!"

Sirius tugged Rosmerta toward the secret entrance the instant they heard a stair creak. Outside, she said, "I got jealous, thinking you'd brought other girls there. I'm sorry."

His fingers squeezed hers. "Don't be. I can't say my reputation is entirely undeserved."

She lifted his hand and placed it against her cheek. "Mine either."

-

* * *

- 

Sirius stroked Rosmerta's cheek. He wished he could see her face even more than he wanted to see her breasts, and that was saying something. Were there tears in her eyes? Her voice sounded wistful, as if she had regrets. He knew all about those, but refused to dwell on the past. It wouldn't change a bloody thing.

There was one way to help Rosmerta focus on the present. Sirius said, "Do you want me to come by after you close the pub?"

She didn't answer right away. He began to feel something vaguely resembling nervousness. Visual cues would've been extremely helpful. Was she worried he'd push the relationship further than she wanted to go? He wouldn't.

"Yes."

He was smiling from ear to ear in relief. Rosmerta had him worrying for a minute. Not that he wouldn't have been able to talk her round, if she'd said 'no'. Mrs. Potter always said he could sell gillyweed to merfolk if he set his mind to it. Not that he would. Sirius would never talk someone into something they didn't want. Besides, he didn't speak Mermish.

At the back door of the Broomsticks, Rosmerta broke the Disillusionment charm and said, "I'll see you later."

Sirius kissed Rosmerta's hand and said, "Farewell, fair lady."

The back door opened. Callum looked from Rosmerta's hand, held once more in the air, to his employer. "Is your break over?"

"Are the girls overrun by customers?" Rosmerta asked.

Callum nodded.

"Good. That's the way I like it," Rosmerta said. "I'm coming to help." She waggled her fingers in a covert wave to Sirius and followed the cook inside.

-

On impulse, Sirius decided to walk over to Mrs. McFee's cottage.

She answered the door with a frown on her face. "Yes, who's there?"

Sirius said, "Sorry, Mrs. McFee, I forgot about the charm." He became visible and gave the old woman an apologetic smile. "I came by to see if you needed any help around the house."

The crinkles around the elderly witch's eyes deepened. "Are you sure you didn't smell gingerbread cooling?"

Sirius' stomach rumbled. He shook his head. "Smells awfully good, though."

Mrs. McFee motioned him inside. "Since the Wizard Scouts have taken care of my lawn, I only have need of a taste tester." She lowered her voice, as if bakery spies were listening. "I made _chocolate gingerbread biscuits, _this time._"_

His stomach rumbled again. "With sugar on top?" Sirius asked.

Her eyes twinkled. "Come and see."

-

Hours later, Sirius left his dessert untouched.

"I told you!" James told Remus and Peter.

"Yes, you told us he'd run over to Mrs. McFee's for gingerbread and sympathy," Remus said patiently.

"Chocolate gingerbread, and don't forget the tea," Sirius said.

"I couldn't drink her tea," said Peter. "I'd be too afraid there would be knock-out drops in it, and I'd wake up in the oven!"

"Wouldn't it be easier to simply poison you?" James said.

"No," Sirius said. He picked up a chicken leg. "Would we eat this if it had been poisoned?" He waved it around. Peter jerked his head back when the chicken pointed his way.

"They're joking," Remus told Peter. "Mrs. McFee is a nice old lady, not an evil witch."

"Yeah," Sirius said. "I ate two dozen biscuits at her house and I feel…" He broke off to clutch his throat, gasping for air, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Sirius!" Peter shouted.

James peered at Sirius face and said, "Good gods, this is the worst case of _chocolate poisoning _I've ever seen!"

Sirius and James howled with laughter.

Across from them, Peter chuckled uncertainly. "They were joking again," he said to Remus, as if he'd been in on it.

"You don't say," Remus said dryly.

Sirius pushed his chocolate cake over to Peter. "Here. For being such a good sport."

"Does he really need a second dessert?" Remus asked quietly.

Sirius hunched a shoulder. "He doesn't need second breakfasts, either, Friar Moony, but I don't see you blocking Little John from the Hall with your quarterstaff every morning."

"Jane likes my appetite. Says it's healthy," Peter said, to no one in particular.

Remus, James, and Sirius traded amused looks. James said, "Anyone up for a darts match after dinner?"

"What about Lily?" Sirius asked. "Won't she seek you out?"

James turned an interesting shade of red. "Erm, no, she and the girls are going to do nails or something." He took a hasty drink of pumpkin juice.

Sirius said lightly, "That's good. I didn't want her to think you were hiding."

James choked and began coughing. Sirius pounded him on the back, smirking.

-

After midnight, when the lights doused and bed curtains were drawn, Sirius slipped out of bed and began to sneak out of the dorm. Halfway across the room, he heard a voice say, '_Lumos' _and froze. Sirius braced himself to answer the question he'd tried to avoid.

"_Where are you going?"_

-

* * *

- 

A/N: The title came from a _Keane _song I've been keen on for a couple of years, lol- 'Somewhere Only We Know.' The readers I'm keen about for taking the time from school or holiday to review last chap were……….♥** 40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** MollyCoddles **♥ **Shadow-ofthe-Night35 **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥** Sophia Loren **♥ **sunny9847 **♥ and ♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon **♥


	18. Over My Head

-

Over My Head

-

_Why couldn't it have been Wormtail? _Sirius thought. _He'd be easy to talk round. __Not so, Moony, he takes Friar Responsibilities much too seriously._ Inwardly resigning himself to a verbal fencing match, Sirius said lightly, "I'm going on a run."

"Didn't you get enough exercise today?" Remus asked, walking slowly forward.

Sirius stayed put. He was heading out the door, not back to bed. He said, "It isn't the same. The way your senses expand as an animal, the rush- you know how it is."

"Actually, I don't," Remus said.

"You become furry once a month," Sirius said. "Are you telling me you never remember what it's like to be a wolf?"

Remus' half smile was sad. "I have vague memories of pain, and rage, even loneliness sometimes, but not of actually being a werewolf."

Sirius frowned. "Loneliness? What does that bloody wolf think we are? Furniture?"

"You're not werewolves."

Sirius heard the melancholy in Remus' tone and said, "Hey, mate, we're pack, even if we aren't wolves. If your alter-ego doesn't appreciate that, he's a rabid git, and I'd tell him so, except I don't think the concept would translate."

Remus smiled. "No, I expect it wouldn't."

Sirius said, "Expanded senses, limited communication." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then snapped his fingers. "I know! Instead of spitting in his general direction, I'll fart."

Remus grinned. "I don't think Prongs or Wormtail would appreciate you breaking wind in a confined space."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Sirius said, smirking. "What did you think caused those tortured howls that frightened the villagers so?" When Remus laughed, Sirius said, "Right, then, I'm off."

"Where?" Remus asked.

"On a run," Sirius said. "Didn't we cover this before? If we didn't, I'm having déjà vu."

"_Where _are you running off to?" Remus clarified patiently.

Sirius made a quick decision. If he said the Forbidden Forest, Moony might bring up last term's narrow escape from giant spiders. He said, "The village."

That answer didn't earn a smile of relief. His friend's face remained sombre. Remus said, "I've heard about the widow, Mrs. Quickly. Gossip has it she has her eye on you."

"The interest isn't mutual," Sirius said. "She's what? Thirty? Way too old for me, mate." _Twenty-one is my preference these days, _he thought impishly.

Remus' expression relaxed. "You had us worrying, the way you've rejected everyone's matchmaking attempts."

"Tell anyone who asks I'm just not interested in the girls at school," Sirius said frankly. "They don't have their own identity, there's no challenge, no excitement. They're dead boring compared to…" he broke off before he did something stupid, like tell Moony about Rosmerta.

Remus said, "Compared to your pen friend?"

Moony always was clever. Sirius shrugged.

"Is she older, this _friend_?"

"A few years," Sirius admitted reluctantly.

Remus shook his head. "I should've known you wouldn't correspond daily with some girl you met only casually on holiday." He paused a moment, and then asked, "Is she challenging and exciting, this woman?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, grinning.

"I wouldn't know how to handle a girl like that," Remus said.

"Don't worry mate, she'd handle you."

"I'll stick with Dorcas, thanks."

"Because she's un-exciting?"

Remus said, "Quiet and thoughtful. There's a difference."

"If you say so," Sirius said, privately thinking his friend needed to meet a girl who was more lively and colourful. He wasn't going to argue about it, though. He wanted to leave, not veer into girl-talk territory. There was only one thing he needed to do first. "Hey Remus," he said. "I'll tell the blokes about my girlfriend eventually, but for now, will you keep my secret?"

"I won't tell Prongs or Wormtail if you don't want me to," Remus said.

"Thanks mate," Sirius said gratefully. "See you in the morning."

-

The Animagus ran swiftly through the night, pitying his friend for not being able to enjoy any part of his monthly change. Maybe that was the true 'curse' of being a werewolf.

Once he reached the Broomsticks, Sirius shifted back into human form and knocked on the back door, pulling the hood of his cloak up in case someone other than Rosmerta answered. When she opened the door, he said, "Has everyone gone home?"

"Yes, come on in," she said.

Sirius had barely pushed back his hood when her father called, "Where's my Firewhisky!"

"Tell him it's behind the bar, and to fetch it himself," Sirius said, bending to kiss Rosmerta.

Her mouth clung to his for a moment before she pulled back and put a finger to her lips. Rosmerta waved her wand and said, "I'll be up in a moment, Da." She waved her wand again. "If I have to release and engage privacy wards a dozen times, it's worth it to have you here with me."

"Did you miss me already?" he teased.

"Madly," she said with a smile, holding his hand as they walked the short corridor connecting the kitchen to the pub. In a motion revealing long practice, Rosmerta picked up the neck of a bottle and a tumbler with one hand. She asked as they walked back down the corridor, "If I invite you to wait in my room, will you promise to be on your best behaviour?"

Even when he was bad, he was the best, but Sirius knew what she was asking. "I won't go through your novels or your knickers," he said.

"Don't disillusion me," she whispered as they neared the stairs.

"I'll be the one _disillusioned_," he said in her ear, before performing the spell.

Rosmerta led the way upstairs. Sirius watched her enter her father's room and close the door. He took that as his cue to stop eavesdropping and go wait in her room. Inside the bedroom, he decided to kick off his shoes and lie down on the bed.

There was a funny, crinkling sound when his head hit the pillow. Sirius sat up and reached into the pillowcase, grinning when he pulled out several of his letters.

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta wasn't trying to be rude by closing the door. She was trying to protect her Da's privacy. He said things, when he got in one of his moods, which would deeply embarrass him if anyone overheard. Not that he'd know, of course, but she would.

"If that woman steps foot into this room, I'm going ter drag my useless arse over ter the window and fling myself oot!" her father declared, waving the whisky tumbler for emphasis.

"I cast a spell on the ground below," Rosmerta said. "You'd bounce."

"_Bounce?"_ Diarmid said angrily. "Yeh'd make yer father bounce like a bairn?"

Rosmerta said, "To prevent you getting pissed as a newt and doing something rash? You bet your wand I would!"

"I don't have a wand." Her father's thin shoulders hunched as he looked at her sullenly.

"It was a figure of speech."

"Rubbish. Next thing yeh'll try an' say newt's don't get pissed."

Rosmerta smiled. "Are you that put out about Mrs. Bouquet?"

"Pit oot? Give over, lass. I'm a wee bit more'n _pit oot!"_

"Why?"

Diarmid refilled his tumbler. "I don't have ter explain myself ter you."

"Are you afraid she'll get on your nerves?"

Her father scowled. "Aye. Last thing I need is some busybody giving me gyp."

"I've heard she's got a very good bedside manner," Rosmerta said.

"Pish, an' me in nae shape ter enjoy it."

Rosmerta gave a shocked laugh. "Da!"

"What? Has Iris become a complete moose, then?"

"No, _Iris _is attractive," Rosmerta said. She watched her father closely for his reaction.

He said dryly, "I'm nae part of that Ladies' Society. I call patrons by their first names."

While Rosmerta distinctly remembered her father calling several customers by their preferred form of 'Mrs.', she didn't want to argue. She wanted to walk down the corridor and see what Sirius was up to in her room. _If he's lying on my bed without a shirt on,_ she thought, _I'll melt into a puddle on the floor._

"Leave the bottle, Ros," her Da ordered gently, when she said goodnight.

-

Sirius was asleep on her bed when she entered the room. He didn't have his shirt off, but he had removed his cloak and shoes. At rest, he bore a faint resemblance to the boy he'd once been. His features softened in slumber, became almost angelic in handsomeness. Rosmerta's eyes lingered on his mouth. Almost, but not quite angelic- those lips were sinfully tempting.

She sat on the edge of the mattress and watched him sleep. Sirius' lips parted slightly, as if in invitation. Her eyes narrowed. Was he playing a game, to see if she'd wake him with a kiss?

Rosmerta leaned over, her lips not quite brushing Sirius' mouth. His breathing remained steady. She rubbed her lips against his and glanced up. Not one unfairly long, dark eyelash flickered. Maybe he really was asleep. She kissed him tenderly.

Sirius opened his eyes.

"Ah!" she said, startled. He smiled devilishly and drew her back down for another kiss, his fingers sifting through her curls. Rosmerta made an 'Mmm' sound of contentment, loving the way he kissed, the way he made her feel.

When his fingers began toying with the buttons on her blouse, however, Rosmerta knew she had to do something before those buttons were loosened and unbuttoned, and her blouse was removed…along with the rest of her clothes. It would be too easy to make love with Sirius and forget her resolve to wait.

Sirius tugged her down to lie beside him. His eyes seemed to watch her for a signal that she wanted him to embrace her the way he had in the shack. Rosmerta said, "I want you…to talk to me."

"Talk?" he said. "I was hoping for more non-verbal communiqué."

She had to smile. He was so appealing, with that roguish grin.

Sirius' eyebrows rose. "Your silence says 'no' very eloquently."

"It also says I wish I'd got your shirt off before common sense took over," Rosmerta admitted with a sigh.

Sirius was silent for a few seconds, cocking his head as though listening to something. He said, "My silence said that too…and added your bra to the wish list."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, my silence is very eloquent."

Rosmerta giggled. "Extremely."

"Thank you." Sirius waited for her to stop giggling before asking, "Besides silence, what do you want to talk about?"

Rosmerta said, "I don't know, anything. What's it like, the home you inherited?"

He said, "It's a charming hovel lacking all modern conveniences thanks to my uncle, who apparently had an aversion to home improvement spellwork." Sirius' tone changed from flippant to serious. "I've only had James over, so I haven't bothered, but if you say you'll visit, I'd do a lick of cleaning."

"Only a lick?"

His eyes turned smoky. "I can do an awful lot with a lick."

_I bet you can, _she thought. "I'll visit," she said.

-

* * *

- 

Sirius felt his pulse leap in anticipation. "Christmas holiday?" he said.

"Will you have a tree?" Rosmerta asked. "I love decorating for Christmas."

"I will if you promise to lie with me on the floor afterwards to look at the candles," Sirius said. "It's the only way to ensure true appreciation."

"Is that what you did growing up?"

Sirius' smile twisted. "Chop down a tree like filthy Muggles? My mother would sooner stab holly through her heart. It wasn't until I went away to school that I discovered the true glory of a Christmas tree."

He hadn't used a poor-me tone, but Rosmerta still looked at him in sympathy. "Did you sleep beside the tree on Christmas Eve?" she said. "I always wanted to, but I was too afraid Father Christmas wouldn't come if I did."

"Why would he care if you slept by the tree?" Sirius said. "Father Christmas leaves the stocking on your bed."

"Muggle books showed presents under the tree."

"That's because they don't have wizard stockings."

She shook her head. "Somehow I never thought of that."

Sirius smiled as persuasively as he could. "If you visit me Christmas Eve, I'll let you sleep beside the tree."

"In my red flannel pyjamas with reindeer slippers?"

_If you're not ready to wear red lace. _He said "Sure."

"I'll think about it."

Sirius nodded. _That means you'll be snuggling with me Christmas Eve. _He said, "Here's something else to think about," and kissed her.

This time, Rosmerta's fingers stroked his hair and used their grip to keep his head close to hers. As one kiss became a long series of soft, deep kisses, Sirius trailed his hand over her curves without trying to uncover them. The situation reminded him of Christmases with the Potters. Back then, waiting to unwrap his present made the experience much more exciting. Sirius looked forward to discovering if anticipation had the same effect with a different kind of 'gift.'

"_Sirius," _Rosmerta said, reminding him that he still had to sneak back to school, and she wasn't ready to snuggle all night yet.

Sirius said, "I never got to ask you my question."

"What do you want to know?"

He smiled. "Why is my pillow making crackling noises?"

Rosmerta closed her eyes and groaned. "You know why, don't you?"

Sirius said, "I only promised to keep away from your novels and knickers."

"Do you think I'm a romantic idiot?" Her expression was slightly apprehensive.

"Just a romantic."

His honesty was rewarded. She kissed him soundly on the lips.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: I like The Fray, but this week's title is from a Fleetwood Mac song of the same name- _I'm over my head (over my head) but it sure feels nice…_that applied in **so **many ways this week, for the characters, and the writer, who had a hard time finding time to write, which resulted in a shorter chapter. Sirius' Monty Python insult might not be nice, but reviews are, and the people who made sure my week didn't stink :D, were………….♥** 40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥** ange de l'eau **♥** Arilla Rossi **♥ **Carnivalgirl **♥** Chelsea **♥** comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥** dragonriderhp **♥ **ElspethBates **♥** femme **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥ **GraceRichie **♥** Holly **♥ **ishandtwofourths **♥** jon **♥ **ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** mon-ami-runa **♥** MollyCoddles **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥** Sophia Loren **♥ **sunny9847 **♥ and ♥ **Watch out for Yellow Moon **♥


	19. Tis the Season

Chapter 19- Tis the Season

-

In mid-December, snow wrapped around Hogwarts like a cloak, bringing frost to the windowpanes and a smile to Sirius' face. He hummed a Christmas carol while helping himself to more bacon.

"_God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman?_" Remus asked with a smile.

"No! _God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs!" _said Sirius.

Peter swallowed a bite of toast, shaking his head. "Makes no sense…carol says 'let nothing you dismay.' What could dismay a Hippogriff?"

Sirius pointed his knife across the table. "Not having a female Hippogriff to snog beneath the mistletoe."

Peter eyed the knife warily. "Hippogriffs can't snog."

"Ha! You thought faery lights were only for Muggles, until Professor Flitwick decorated his classroom with faeries." Sirius stabbed a waffle off a central platter, humming again as he reached for the butter. "You're sadly ignorant, but in the spirit of the season, I forgive you."

"Too kind," Peter said.

James watched his friends snicker, his expression disgruntled.

"Are you still sulking because no one wants to play Quidditch this afternoon?" Sirius said. "Think about it. Hogsmeade Weekend before holiday, they want to party, not practise!"

"When is the next match- February? You'll have more than enough time to practise after the holidays," Remus said.

James shrugged. "I suppose. I don't want to lose the House Cup, that's all."

"You should be worrying about losing the snowball fight after school," Sirius said.

Remus shook his head in pretended dismay. "You accepted yet another challenge? Who are we up against this time?"

"It's an in-house match, us against first years."

"That doesn't seem fair," said James.

"_All _the first years," said Sirius.

James smiled. "That's more like it," he said.

"Bet they don't know any good snow-packing spells," Peter said, grinning in anticipation.

"Then we'll teach them a valuable lesson," Sirius said.

"Amen," said Remus, making a sign of benediction.

-

The holiday cheer spreading through the castle like the scent of fresh-baked gingerbread affected teachers too. In Charms, Professor Flitwick had the class practise variations of _Decorare_ to embellish miniature Christmas trees with ornaments.

"Use _Ornare _if you're having trouble with _Decorare,_" Sirius told Jane. "Same thing, really, but easier to cast- probably because it has less syllables," he joked. She didn't smile. She kept staring forlornly at her tree.

"I wanted Peter to stay at school over holiday," she said. "I wanted to decorate a tree together."

The girl's tone worried Sirius. She seemed on the verge of tears and he didn't want to have to comfort her. He said bracingly, "We'll do that tonight, if you like. Make a party of it."

She sniffed. "A party?"

The idea was inspired. Sirius said, "Sure, the more the merrier. I'll ask Hagrid for a tree to put in the common room. We'll decorate it and toast everything we can put on a roasting fork over the fire and…"

"Can we have chocolate fondue?"

"Why not?" he said, making a mental note to run by the kitchen before lunch and talk to Flighty.

Jane rubbed away a tear from the corner of her eye. "Thank you for being so thoughtful. Peter said you're the best mate he's ever had, and now I feel like you're one of _my_ best friends too."

"You can never have too many friends," Sirius said uneasily, hoping Jane wouldn't hug him or touch him in any way.

She smiled and waved her wand. "You're not just a friend. You're an angel."

Sirius stared at the decorations now adorning her tree. There were a dozen 'angels' with black hair…and his face! Some laughed, some smiled, and some looked thoughtful. He was tempted to turn the tree to ash, but that would make Jane bawl. He wondered if he could use _Opprimo _to crush them, _accidentally_.

"Would you like to have one?" Jane asked.

Sirius imagined Rosmerta opening up a packet and lifting out one of the ornaments. He grinned and picked the one that smiled angelically…and then winked. He wrapped it in parchment and stuffed it into a pocket of his schoolbag. "Thanks," he said.

At the back of the class, a girl asked, "What will you do with the trees, Professor?"

"Your handiwork will grace a table in the Great Hall," Flitwick replied, using _Mobiliarus _to bring the trees to the front of the room.

Sirius raised his hand. "Which table, Sir?"

The tiny wizard was holding a tree in his hand, staring down at the ornaments with an odd look on his face. He said, "Slytherin…except for Miss Weston's, which will have a place of honour on the staff table."

Sirius listened to his classmates congratulate Jane with a feeling of relief. He told himself it wasn't because he believed in Muggle superstitions like voodoo. He merely disliked like the thought of such exquisite handicrafts becoming marred or broken.

After class, he headed for the kitchen. The house elves looked up from their conjuring when he entered. He smiled and said, "I'm looking for…"

"Flighty…we _know," _said a gruff voice. The house elf left his worktable to walk toward the boy.

Sirius said, "Is she…"

"Sick is what Flighty is. Sick from nasty _human _germs," Surly said darkly. "You is not to be bothering her."

"Perhaps you can help me, then," Sirius said.

"I is not helping…"

"You was promising Flighty, I was hearing you!" another elf cried, her eyes flashing. Sirius gave her a thankful smile.

"Don't encourage him, Holly, or he might bring _you _flowers!" another elf whispered in a carrying tone.

In an instant, Sirius knew which elves were male and which were female. Every female head bowed, and every male eye glared. He swallowed hard. "I need some chocolate fondue and whatever other food and drink you'd be willing to provide for a house party," he told Surly.

"Is you going to clean your mess or leave it for Flighty?" Surly demanded.

"Clean it, of course," Sirius said.

"_Of course," _Surly spat bitterly. "You is the most helpful, thoughtful boy _ever!"_

"I won't clean if you don't want me to," said Sirius, ready to bargain.

"Is you promising?" said Surly.

"I won't touch a single dirty glass," Sirius vowed.

Surly smiled. Sirius forced himself not to flinch.

"Eight o'clock," the elf said. "Fondue, fruit, marshmallows, cake and pumpkin juice- nothing more is you getting…and you is not to clean up."

"Thank you, I promise not to lift a finger…or a wand," Sirius added, when Surly's eyes narrowed. When the elf nodded grudgingly, Sirius gave a half-hearted wave and exited as speedily as possible.

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta wasn't expecting an owl so late in the day, so she jumped when avian wings beat against her kitchen window. She lifted the pane and took the packet, petting the owl and giving it a treat before it flew off again.

Inside the packet was a 'blank' piece of parchment and a small, tissue wrapped bundle. "Billet doux," Rosmerta said. She smiled as Sirius' love letter appeared.

**I wanted to send you something to make you laugh. I also wanted to tell you I wound up volunteering to throw a house party tonight. Nothing wild, just tree decorating, food and drink, a few carols. In case you were wondering, if I'm caught beneath the mistletoe, I'll kiss only cheeks. You'll do the same, right? **

**Yours, (especially the lips)**

"_Ne parlez pas, _don't speak," she said, after reading the note a second time. When the handwriting disappeared, Rosmerta kissed the parchment and sighed. Was Sirius trying to reassure her that his lips were exclusively hers, or was he remembering that Christmas five years ago?

She remembered how she and Jonathan had been fighting on and off for weeks. He kept trying to put his hands where he shouldn't, and wouldn't take no for an answer. After she'd given him a stinging hex, he'd kissed another girl beneath the mistletoe in the entry, right in front of her. Rosmerta had immediately retaliated.

_She used her wand to knock down a mistletoe ball. Holding it in her hands, Rosmerta lifted it high. "Any boy who wants a Christmas kiss can have one," she said loudly. _

"_Really?" a lanky fourth year Ravenclaw said, stepping in front of her. _

_She looked over at Jonathan. "Absolutely," she said, before kissing the boy briefly on the lips. "Happy Christmas."_

"_Happy Christmas," the Ravenclaw said, smiling. _

_Another boy took his place. Rosmerta's neck bent back as she gazed up at the Hufflepuff Keeper. "Happy Christmas," the seventh year said in a deep rumble, before picking her up by the waist and planting a quick kiss on her lips._

"_Happy Christmas, Robbie," she said, beginning to wonder what she'd set herself up for. Her eyes widened when she saw the queue forming. _

_Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Jonathan cross his arms, his expression daring her to go through with it. She pasted on a bright smile and stooped down to kiss the first year Slytherin smirking at her._

Rosmerta shook her head at the memory. She'd kissed a lot of boys that evening. Nothing more than a peck on the lips, but she'd been making a point. Not that Jonathan had acknowledged it. He'd stood there looking bored the whole time, and when the last boy had said 'Happy Christmas' and run away to join his snickering friends, he'd said, "Did you enjoy that?"

She remembered how tears had filled her eyes.

_She shook her head. He walked over and took her face in his hands. "Good, because if you did, I'd make those blokes sorry."_

_She said, "What about that girl?"_

"_Would you make her sorry?" he saw her eyes flash and chuckled. "I'm flattered, but you can save your hexes." He kissed her softly and stepped back. "Happy Christmas, my jealous little Hufflepuff."_

_She started to smile. "Happy Christmas, my bigheaded Slytherin prat."_

_The caretaker Filch stepped into the entry. "Students should be in their common rooms," he said._

"_Better go before he asks for a kiss," Jonathan whispered._

_She shook her head and turned to leave. As she passed the main staircase, Rosmerta saw a boy sitting on the bottom stair._

"_Shouldn't you be in your house?" she said._

_Sirius Black gave her a cheeky look. "Maybe I was waiting to get a kiss." When she didn't answer, he said accusingly, "You've given everyone else one."_

_Rosmerta said, "I didn't kiss Filch." The horrified look on the boy's face made her giggle. "I could've, you know. He was just there, in the entry, looking all grey and greasy, reeking of onion and garlic and wet cat. I passed that opportunity up." _

_Sirius grinned. He was so adorable, she wanted to hug him, but instead Rosmerta bent and kissed his cheek. "Happy Christmas, Sirius…now go back to your house before I take points."_

"_Okay. Happy Christmas, Rosmerta!"_

Rosmerta smiled at the memory of an adorable little boy. She laughed to herself, thinking he was still adorable, but now she wanted to hug him and kiss him breathless.

Red tissue paper caught her eye. Rosmerta giggled. Sirius had used enough spellotape for two gifts. She undid the bundle carefully, in case whatever was inside was fragile. She lifted the ornament out of the tissue, breaking into laughter when she saw the angel had Sirius' face. "I love it," she sighed, kissing the tiny, smiling features. The angel winked, startling her into laughter once more.

"_Rosmerta!"_

Her father's voice wiped away her smile. He and Mrs. Bouquet were at it again. The woman was cheerful, helpful, and best of all showed no pity, but her father was determined to drive her away. It was maddening.

"_Yes, Da?" _she called back, using a charm to project her voice upstairs.

"_Get this barmy bird off me!"_

An image flickered into Rosmerta's mind that made her stomach churn. Children, even adult children, should never think about their parents in compromising positions. It was nausea inducing. She grimaced and hurried upstairs.

Halfway up, she paused, hearing Mrs. Bouquet's voice. "Fight your own battles," the woman challenged. "Stop hiding behind Rosmerta's skirts like a two-year-old."

"How's about I bite yeh like a two-year-old!"

"My, I never thought of you as kinky."

"_Kinky? _I'll show yeh kinky, woman!"

Rosmerta remained frozen on the stairway. Now she really didn't want to see what was going on. It might be too traumatising, and Hogsmeade didn't have a counselling service.

"_Diarmid--!"_

The listener's jaw dropped. Mrs. Bouquet had just used her father's _entire name! _How did she know it? They only went by first names! Rosmerta clattered up the last steps and burst into the room.

Her father was lying crosswise on the bed, half buttoned into a collared shirt. Mrs. Bouquet was standing beside the dresser, one hand covering a spot on the side of her neck, the other smoothing down her brown bob. She jerked her fingers away from her hair when she saw Rosmerta. "I have…an appointment…so I will be leaving early. Now, in fact," she said briskly.

"Will you be back tomorrow?" Rosmerta asked.

The woman shot her patient a steely look. "_Nothing _will keep me away."

Rosmerta waited until Mrs. Bouquet's footsteps faded to demand, "What did you do to her?"

Her father dragged himself over to rest against his pillows. "It's what she done ter me you should scowl over. Naggin' and carryin' on aboot me gettin' dressed _proper. _If I want ter wear pyjamas all damn day, I'll do it!" He crossed his arms, looking stubbornly proud of himself.

Rosmerta pointed stiffly to the clothing on the floor. "Did you force her to dress you? Is that why she called you a two-year-old?"

Diarmid turned his head away to stare out the window.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

"I didnae want Iris zippin' my trousers," he answered gruffly, still not meeting her eyes.

Was he implying what she thought he was implying? Rosmerta added that to the growing list of things she didn't want to know. She said, "If you'd dress yourself, that wouldn't be an issue, would it?"

"That's right, take _her _side," her father muttered.

Rosmerta said, "I'm stating facts, but since you're in no mood to see reason, I'll go. I have errands to do before I open the pub." She halted in the doorway to ask, "Is there anything you'd like me to pick up while I'm out?"

A crafty smile spread across Diarmid's face. "Aye, a romance novel: one of those historical ones, with a cover showin' a bloke rippin' the bird's bodice. Iris keeps offerin' ter read ter me. Tomorrow, I'll let her do it."

"All right, Da," she said, feeling a twinge of guilt.

She shouldn't aid him in tormenting Mrs. Bouquet, but Rosmerta hadn't seen her Da look so alive in ages. Besides, one book- with a gorgeous black haired pirate on the cover- had tempted her for weeks. Only the thought of Fiona smirking over the busty blonde in his arms had kept her from purchasing it.

Now she had an excuse to buy it, and since her father didn't need the book until tomorrow, she could read it tonight, in a bathtub full of bubbles.

-

* * *

- 

Sirius awoke when the first ray of sunlight touched his face. Finally, Hogsmeade Weekend had arrived! He bounded out of bed and whistled on his way to the shower, cheerfully ignoring his roommates' groans.

James threw a pillow at him when he re-entered the room. "Some people need more than half a dozen hours of sleep, you git. Stop that bloody racket!"

"Now, now, Prongs, that kind of talk will get you on the naughty list," Sirius reminded. "It isn't my fault you spent the night snogging in a corner beneath a mistletoe ball."

"But Padfoot…didn't I see you charm it?" Peter said groggily, sitting up.

Sirius whacked Peter in the face with the pillow. "Go back to sleep, worm-brain, you're talking gibberish."

"I think you just joined Prongs on the naughty list," Remus said with a smile.

"I'm there year round, mate." Sirius chuckled. "That's why Father Christmas always passes me by, the jolly old bastard." He grabbed James' pillow and tossed it back to its owner. "I have to rely on the kindness of friends, and their generous parents, for Christmas cheer."

James grinned. "My _generous parents_ want you to spend the holidays with us again."

Sirius said, "I'll be there for Christmas dinner, but this year, I've got a home that doesn't give me nightmares. I want to stay there over holiday."

"So he can have girls over," said Peter, snickering.

Sirius looked at James, who nodded and magically hurled a pillow across the room.

"Ow!" said Peter, rubbing the side of his head. "What's in that pillowcase? A rock?"

"Shite! Sorry, erm, threw the wrong pillow, mate," James said, scrambling off the bed.

Sirius took the pillow and lifted a rectangular object out of the case. "What have we here? A picture of mum and dad? _No! _A picture of Lily!"

"Give that back!" James demanded, when Sirius held the photo out of his reach.

"Why doesn't he want us to see the picture?" said Peter. "Is she _naked?"_

Sirius saw how upset James was getting and handed him back the frame, scoffing, "Evans? Showing skin? Did a Nargle crawl out of the mistletoe and into your dirty mind?"

Only a tinge of red remained on James' cheeks. He gave Sirius a grateful smile. "Some things are private. You understand, right?"

Sirius nodded. He wouldn't want blokes gawking over a picture of his girlfriend in a bikini, either. Not that he'd _gawked, _but the photo had been quite a surprise. He would never have guessed Lily was so bold. It made him like her even more.

While James put the photo in his trunk for safekeeping, Sirius said, "What's the plan for today? Christmas shopping?"

Remus smiled. "Dorcas says Hogsmeade has much better sales than Diagon Alley."

Peter nodded vehemently. "Jane said that too." He frowned, asking, "How am I supposed to know what she wants for Christmas if she says to surprise her?"

Sirius said, "Ask her friends, and if they don't know, buy jewellery."

Remus said wistfully, "Jewellery is expensive."

"Not silver, especially earrings," Sirius said knowledgeably.

"A werewolf buying his girlfriend silver earrings? The irony appeals," Remus said with a smile.

James said, "Good thing werewolves aren't allergic to silver like in those Muggle stories." He laughed. "Can you imagine kissing her ear and feeling your lips burn?"

"That would ruin a romantic moment," Remus said with a grin.

"Hold on," Peter said. "You blokes kiss girls' _ears? _And they like it?_"_

Sirius said, "Try it, she'll like it, but for Merlin's sake, don't tell me about it afterwards." He strode toward the door, leaving James and Remus chuckling.

He heard Peter ask why he shouldn't tell.

"_Privacy,"_ the other two answered.

Sirius' amusement vanished the moment he saw how tidy the common room was. He refused to panic. Maybe Flighty had come by early and cleaned. Jane, Felicity, and Dorcas were chatting quietly on a sofa, so he walked over and said, "This place was a mess when I went to bed. Lucky for us we have such a nice house elf."

"We didn't make a house elf clean our mess," Felicity said indignantly.

"You didn't?" he said, with a sinking stomach.

"We stayed up and had a cleaning party after the party-party," Jane said with a giggle.

"You don't think we offended Flighty, do you?" Dorcas asked.

"I'm sure Flighty was pleased," Sirius said with a sickly smile. _Her insanely jealous boyfriend is the one I'm worried about. _He walked toward the door, determined to set the record straight.

In the kitchen, Flighty ran to greet him, all smiles. "Surly was telling me about the party, how you would not clean, but I told him you would, and this morning, I find the common room is sparkly clean. Thank you for my Christmas present!"

Sirius lifted both hands in the air, addressing his friend and the scowling elf marching toward them. "I didn't clean. I swear by Godric Gryffindor. A group of girls did it, all of it." Surly was closer now, showing his teeth. He wasn't smiling. Sirius backed toward the door, saying, "Really, when I went to bed, the room was a pigsty. I wouldn't clean it for a present. I'd buy you earrings!"

The instant he spoke, Sirius wished he could take the words back. The room turned deadly silent. Flighty gave him that Mrs. Potter look.

Surly literally gnashed his teeth. "Earrings? An ugly, hairy, tiny eared human dares to say he's going to give my intended _EARRINGS!" _

The elf's eyes began glowing ominously. Flighty looked from her partner to the boy groping for the door handle and said, "Oh, Sirius…_run!"_

-

* * *

A/N: Tis the season for trouble :D. Christmas break starts next chap. I hope everyone loves the holidays as much as I do, because I go all out. Those of you wondering what Rosmerta's last name is will have to keep wondering. It's a secret, LOL. The people it is no secret that I adore for taking the time from holidays and school to review last chap were...♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **ElspethBates **♥** Emmas Padawon **♥ **FNP **♥ **Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** GraceRichie **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥ **Shadow-of the- Night35 **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥ **and **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ 


	20. To Be Jolly

Chapter 20- To Be Jolly

-

Sirius stood looking out the window of his dorm, watching grey clouds gather. Soon it would snow. He glanced down at his watch and smiled. Even sooner, the carriages would roll toward the train station. His smile widened in anticipation.

Finally, it was time for him to leave the room that had become a virtual prison. Since Surly hexed him, Sirius left his dorm only to attend classes…and sneak out to see Rosmerta. Flighty brought meals on a tray, and his only company beside his mates had been Lily and Dorcas. The one time Jane visited, she left crying.

Sirius' eyes flew to the calendar whose days were marked off with large 'X's.' Had it really been less than a week since he had offended a jealous house elf? Time passed so slowly cooped up like a dog in a pen.

He lifted the hood of his cloak and held the material tightly at his throat, ensuring his head was fully covered. After checking his watch once more, Sirius left the room and hurried downstairs.

"_Good Gryffindors rejoice, with heart and soul and voice…Give ye heed to what I say, Sirius Black is leaving today!"_

"Thank you for the inspiring carol," said Sirius, hurrying down the corridor. "Happy Christmas!"

"_Merry, merry, merry, Christmas!"_ the Fat Lady trilled.

Sirius had deliberately waited until the last minute to leave the tower. He expected the crowd to have dispersed, with only a few stragglers remaining.

Cheerful at the prospect of an unimpeded route to the carriages, he quickly descended the main staircase and jogged down the corridor to the entry. Before he took a step inside, a piping little voice said, "Sirius! We waited for you…please ride with us to the station!"

Cindy, a tow-headed Gryffindor first year, was staring up at him.

"_Please?_" five of her little friends chorused.

Sirius hardened his heart against pleading eyes and trembling lips. "Sorry, girls, I've already made plans. Happy Christmas."

The sorrowful Happy Christmases he received made him feel like Scrooge, but Sirius walked on. He stopped dead in his tracks to hear a voice outside ask, "D'you think he knew we'd be waitin' and snuck out a different door?"

Damn! That was Jugson, one of the Slytherin Beaters. Was the entire Quidditch team waiting to jeer at him…or worse? Tear off his cloak and humiliate him in front of the whole school? Sirius whirled around and rushed back to the girls.

"What are you doing?" Cindy asked, watching him crouch down and begin duck walking behind the small group.

"Hiding, until I can make a break for it," Sirius whispered. "Be a Christmas Angel and pretend I'm not here."

Cindy smiled. "Will you sit with us on the train…just for a few minutes?"

They were at the doorway now. All the girls turned to look at him. "Stop doing that!" he said. "I'll come, but only if you get me past that lot waiting outside."

Six eleven year olds nodded determinedly. They moved in a tight group out the doors and down the steps.

"You there, have you seen Black?" a boy's voice demanded.

Cindy pointed. "He's in the bushes over there!"

When the Slytherins ran to check, Sirius lurched to his feet and bolted for his mates' carriage. They had chosen the one at the head of the line, which had seemed such a brilliant idea at the time. Now, with spluttered curses and angry footsteps behind him, Sirius changed his mind. It was barmy.

Students hung out of carriage windows, craning their necks to see what was happening. Some laughed, some shouted for him to run faster, and some invited him to ride with them. Sirius ran full out, grinning when he heard a girl say, "They're falling back! They're giving up!"

Slytherins were used to ambushing their victims in dark corridors, not sprinting. Sirius, thanks to his long and illustrious career of managing mischief, had learnt to leg it upon many an occasion.

Sirius was laughing in triumph when he climbed into the first carriage.

"You sound like a ghoul…and you look like one too," said James with a grin.

Beneath his hood, Sirius snickered. "As long as I don't smell like one."

Peter had been hanging out the window. He fell back onto the bench and said, "I told them you'd make it."

"We never doubted," said Remus with a smile.

"Ah, but did you bet on it?" asked Sirius.

"A galleon," Remus admitted.

"I wagered five on you," said James.

Peter boasted, "I bet twenty!"

"_Twenty?" _Sirius repeated in a dangerous tone. "We only had fifteen when we pooled our funds."

Peter shrank back against the seat. "B…but you said to always bet on Black!"

"I also told you to never bet more than you can afford to lose, worm-brain," said Sirius.

James said, "I would've given you the galleons, if you'd needed it."

Sirius realised how harsh he had sounded and made a conscious effort to relax. It was not his mates' fault his mother compared him to ancestors whose foolish gambles depleted the family fortunes.

"_You are as reckless as the worst of them," _he could still hear her say.

"Thanks," he told James, before turning to Peter. "Next time, remember what I said, but this time…I think we should spend the extra galleons on sweets for everyone."

Peter's round face lit up. "Brilliant! The girls are coming round for tea." His expression grew anxious. "You will be…normal…by then, won't you?"

"So Flighty says," Sirius answered. "Once we get a certain distance from Hogsmeade, the spell breaks."

"Ace," said James. "I've tried to be a good sport, but the situation was wearing on my nerves."

"On _your _nerves?" Sirius said, throwing off his cloak. Black hair spilled like a waterfall over his shoulders and cascaded down his chest. "I'm the one with _Rapunzel _hair, as your girlfriend so cleverly named it- that grows back instantly when you cut or charm it away! I've endured constant heckling and hounding, become a prisoner in my dorm just because Surly wanted to make me more ugly and _hairy. _My nerves aren't worn- they're shot!_"_

"Lily is clever, isn't she?" James said with a dreamy smile.

Remus said, "Think what would have happened if Flighty hadn't thrown a protection spell at the same time as Surly's hex. You would've had a beard as long as your hair."

"Something more for girls to beg me to let them brush and braid," Sirius said darkly. "At least I was spared that!"

"Jane never cried because I told her to leave my hair alone," Peter said, almost resentfully.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I told her to leave it the _bloody hell_ alone, mate, and believe me, if you told her to keep her hands off you, she'd cry!"

"Really?" Peter sat up straight and puffed his chest out.

The other three boys exchanged amused glances.

"You haven't enjoyed the attention…not even a little?" Remus asked curiously.

Sirius looked at his mate and lied like a dog. "Not one bit." He turned his gaze to the window and listened to the others chat about holiday plans, while his memory took him back to the day of the hex…

"_I can't go to Hogsmeade like this! I'll be a laughingstock!" Sirius said, leaning a shoulder against the window and staring out broodingly. _

"_Lily could braid it for you," James said._

"_So Slytherins can pull it all day? No thank you." _

"_Dorcas thinks if you tied it back, it wouldn't be that much longer than the Headmaster's hair," said Remus._

"_Dumbledore's what? A hundred years older than me? My hair doesn't look like some wizard hairstyle, it looks like…"_

"_Rapunzel's?" Peter suggested. He blanched at the furious expression on Sirius' face. "I didn't make that up, it was Evans. She said that, and now everybody's calling you Rapunzel."_

_Sirius used every curse word he could think of to express his feelings. _

"_That last part, in goblin- is that even anatomically possible?" said James. _

"_It's the thought that counts," Remus said, in a fatherly tone that made even Sirius smile wryly. _

"_Go on. I'll get a run in later tonight, and hope not to frighten rabbits with the sight of an animate fur ball," Sirius said._

"_Will your coat be fluffy or shaggy, do you think?" asked Peter._

"_I don't give a toss. Get out of here!"_

_After curfew, when other Gryffindors were in their dorms if not their beds, Sirius borrowed James invisibility cloak to sneak out for a run. He headed straight to the Broomsticks and knocked on the kitchen door. Rosmerta opened it immediately._

"_Are you all right? I…heard…about the hex," she said._

_Sirius kept his cloak hood up. "Then you understand why I didn't come into Hogsmeade today."_

"_Of course, but Sirius…won't you let me see?"_

"_Might as well give you a laugh too," he said, removing his cloak._

_She put her hands up to her face, but Sirius could see the laughter in bright blue eyes. He scowled. Rosmerta lowered her hands to reveal her smile. "It **is **funny, to see you with all that hair." She took a step closer. "May I touch it?"_

"_At least you asked. A pack of firsties cornered me in the common room this morning. I barely escaped having ribbons braided into it!"_

_Rosmerta giggled at his disgruntled tone. "I can't blame them," she said, sliding her fingers through black hair that now ended at his waist. "It's beautiful." She raised a handful of his hair and brushed the tips across her lips. "And sexy," she sighed._

_If he were a dog, his ears would have perked up. "Sexy?" he said, watching her rub strands against her cheek._

_She nodded, lifting his hair to watch it fall. "Very sexy."_

_He started to grin. "Want to snog a bloke called Rapunzel?"_

_Rosmerta took his hand and led him toward the stairs. "Sirius, Sirius, let down your hair."_

_-_

"Do you want us to form a guard around you, or do you want to make a dash for the train?" James asked, jolting Sirius out of a particularly heated memory. He became aware that the carriage had stopped. They had reached Hogsmeade station.

Before Sirius could answer, the door was yanked open. Several small faces peered into the carriage. "You're coming with us, aren't you?" asked Cindy, the ringleader of the little gang.

"They…erm…helped me out. I'm going to sit with them for awhile," Sirius told his friends, who were grinning like utter fools.

"Have fun," James said.

"Be gentle with him, ladies," said Remus.

The girls giggled. Peter frowned. "Why don't you mind these firsties when you wouldn't let Jane touch your hair?"

"They want to play with it, not molest it," Sirius said, fastening his cloak. He pulled the hood up and allowed himself to be ushered onto the train and into a compartment. He told the girls, "Here are the rules. No ribbons, no bows, no feathers, no beads, no curling, crimping, or cutting- agreed?"

"Agreed," said Cindy, patting the bench beside her with one hand and lifting a brush in the other.

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta stood concealed in the bushes, watching Thestrals pull Hogwarts carriages past the crossroads. She waved when one of the skeletal creatures looked her way.

_You got it bad, _the little voice in the back of her mind gloated.

She could not argue. Instead of having a lie in, she had jumped out of bed, eager to go rambling. Not over the hills or alongside a burn, but toward the route Sirius would take leaving school. Once she reached the crossroads, instead of moving on, Rosmerta had stopped to 'stretch.'

I should be flexible as an elastic band by now, Rosmerta thought, laughing softly. Her heart, too, got a workout, leaping and racing when she caught a glimpse of Sirius' face in the first carriage's window.

Even when the last carriage rolled out of sight, she remained beside the road, staring off remembering the way Sirius had looked stretched out on her bed, framed by a curtain of silky black hair. She had assured him he looked even more masculine, but he had shaken his head.

-

"_I still can't wait for the spell to be broken."_

"_I hope you don't mind if I enjoy it while it lasts," Rosmerta said, using the ends of Sirius' hair to tickle his bare abdomen._

"_Take off your blouse and I'll do that to you," said Sirius. He grinned. "I promise to behave. I might look, but I won't touch…except with my hair." He saw her hesitation and said, "C'mon, don't you want a belly snog?"_

"_A WHAT?"_

_His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her blouse to circle her belly button. "Belly to belly, mouth to mouth, perfectly aligned. What do you say?"_

_She began to undo buttons._

_-_

The sound of a motorbike startled Rosmerta from the memory of Sirius' mouth and skin pressed to hers. Hagrid roared by, screeched to a halt, and then rolled back to her. "Mornin' Rosmerta! After pullin' carriages, the herd'll want to stretch their wings. Yeh want to come along?"

"Sure!" she said, hopping onto the bike magically expanded to fit its giant rider. Rosmerta held onto the back of Hagrid's shaggy coat and said over the engine noise, "I don't have to worry about burning myself on the muffler!"

Hagrid looked down to see her feet dangling and gave a booming laugh.

"You sound like Father Christmas!" Rosmerta said, giggling.

"Ho-ho-ho!" Hagrid responded. "Hang on!"

The ride was not the thrill it had been with Sirius, but it was still fun, feeling the cold wind whoosh past her face as they sped down the road. At the station, she helped Hagrid lead the Thestrals into the carriage house, to store the carriages until the students' return. After Hagrid un-harnessed each thestral, she petted the long, smooth noses, marvelling at the beauty of the black scales.

"Are dragon scales this iridescent?" Rosmerta asked.

Hagrid gave a rumbling chuckle. "They kin blind yeh if the sun strikes 'em right." He smiled reminiscently. "Hungarian Horntails is the closest in looks to thestrals. Yellow eyes, tho'."

"White eyes with black scales are much more striking," Rosmerta told the thestral she was petting. It made a snorting sound and nudged her hand.

"Young Tenebrae likes yeh. Remembers yeh feedin' her."

"Tenebrae? That's a lovely name."

"Means darkness." Hagrid ran a loving hand down the thestral's bony spine. "If she has a foal, it'll be Tenebris…from the darkness."

"That's so poetic!" Rosmerta exclaimed.

Hagrid gave rumble of laughter. "Jus' a play on words. Let's be off."

Rosmerta was glad she had dressed in layers and performed a warming charm. The icy wind whipped her hair back, and if she had been taller, Hagrid's would have lashed her in the face.

The ride was exhilarating. Hagrid yelled directions and cautions at her before they left the ground that she pretended not to have heard before. In the air, following the thestrals as they circled the Forbidden Forest, Rosmerta thought the day could not get any better.

Then it began to snow.

By the time Hagrid pulled to a stop in front of the Broomsticks, a rapidly deepening blanket of snow covered the ground. A little girl dressed in red from head to toe ran down the pavement toward them, calling, "Auntie Rosmerta, Auntie Rosmerta! The boys are saying their troop will build a better snowman than _our _troop. You have to come help us!"

"Looks like yeh have important work to do," said Hagrid.

Rosmerta smiled and asked Natalie, "Are your mum and Hamish helping?"

"No! They're _judging!"_

It was hard not to laugh at the look of disgust on the girl's face. Rosmerta said, "Hagrid and I will come help judge, and then I'll serve everyone warm butterbeer. How does that sound?"

"Brilliant!" Natalie exclaimed, before rushing back toward the common.

Rosmerta saw the look on Hagrid's face and said, "Don't tell me you've got to get back, Rubeus Hagrid. You're officially on holiday, my friend. Come play in the snow."

Hagrid smiled and got off the bike.

-

* * *

- 

"Bye Sirius! Happy Christmas Sirius! We love you Sirius!" James said laughingly, after a group of young girls whirled past them like snowflakes on the King's Cross platform.

"He's the heartthrob of first years," Lily added, giggling.

"No one said 'I love you'," Sirius protested.

"They said it with their eyes." Remus grinned.

The group burst into laughter that faded when Dorcas said, "Isn't that your mum and dad, Lily?"

Mr. and Mrs. Evans were conspicuously Muggle, from their clothing to their stiff and nervous manner.

"Why're they lookin' round like that? Do they think somebody's going to turn them into toads?" asked Peter.

Sirius saw Lily's embarrassment and snapped, "I'll turn you into a toad if you don't shut up."

"I'll help you with your luggage," James said to Lily.

"Thank you. I want them to meet you," she said with a shaky smile.

"Yeah? Ace. I want them to meet me too," said James. He made a face and said, "I mean…"

"I know what you meant," Lily said with a wide smile.

Sirius watched them walk away, hoping the parents would not be too dismayed to meet their daughter's wizard boyfriend. Beside him, Remus said, "Look, the father's shaking James' hand. That's a good sign."

"Bloke's probably happy not to be a toad," said Peter.

Sirius thwacked his idiot friend on the ear. "If it wasn't Christmas…"

"Now, now, let's have goodwill toward all men," Remus said, in his friar voice.

Dorcas spoke up. "There's my family, I'd better go." She hesitated for a moment, before kissing Remus on the cheek. "Happy Christmas," she said.

Sirius looked from the girl walking away to the boy watching her go. "Moony, why didn't you offer to help Dorcas with her luggage?"

"I'm not ready to meet her parents," Remus muttered.

"When will you be ready? Day of the wedding?" Sirius shot back.

"We're not that serious, so leave off, will you?"

"Fine. Is that your mum over there chatting with Mrs. Pettigrew? May I wish her a Happy Christmas or are you _not that serious_ about your friends, either_?" _Sirius said sarcastically.

Remus began to walk. "There are worse afflictions than long hair," he said conversationally.

"Really? What are they?" Peter asked.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "_Cynophobia_…fear of dogs."

Remus said, "I was thinking of _Caligynephobia_…fear of beautiful women."

Sirius halted abruptly. "Don't even joke about that, mate."

"Then there's _philemaphobia_…fear of kissing."

"_All right! _I won't mention Dorcas again!"

Remus said quietly, "Thank you."

"Is there a fear of rats?" asked Peter. I could have a jolly good time with that one. First person to nick my sweets from Father Christmas would…" he became aware of his friends' stares and laughed nervously. "I was kidding."

"Sure you were," Sirius said. He waited until after Remus and his mother left to wink at Peter and say, "_Musophobia_."

Sirius was still chuckling over Peter's ear-to-ear grin when he re-joined James at the end of the platform. They were the only ones left.

"My parents lose track of time. They don't mean to be late," James said.

Sirius shook his head. "I don't mind waiting." He started to smile when he saw the pair approaching. "They're worth waiting for."

"Yeah," James said, "They are." He stood and hurried forward.

Sirius watched the elderly couple greet their beloved son. Only once had his mother held him close like that.

When he was four, he strayed from Walburga's side when they were shopping in Diagon Alley. He had been in a shop down the street, playing with wizard chess pieces, when his mother's shouts had registered. When he wandered outside, his mother had snatched him up and held him so tightly, Sirius could barely breathe- and did not care. It was not until she set him down that he noticed how set her face was.

"_You will learn to mind me, Sirius."_

"Sirius!" Mrs. Potter called. "Where is my second son?" She leaned heavily on a cane, but her smile was mischievously girlish. "James owled that my black sheep had Rapunzel hair. Yours is much too short. You can't be Sirius."

Sirius took her hand and brought it to his lips. "A woman who loves puns is a pearl above price."

She kissed him on one cheek and patted him with gloved fingers on the other. "Handsome and charming…you are Sirius, after all."

"I am seriously famished," Mr. Potter interjected, coming forward to shake Sirius' hand. "I do not believe I have eaten all day. Have I, my dear?" he asked his wife.

"You skipped afternoon tea," she said, "avoiding my ladies' group."

"What cause are you championing now?" James asked. He grinned at Sirius, who smiled, remembering his joke that _he _was the most worthy cause Mrs. Potter had ever supported.

"The Society for the Preservation and Acceptance of Muggles."

"S.P.A.M…what kind of name is SPAM? It will never catch on," Mr. Potter said sceptically.

"Do not argue in front of the children," Mrs. Potter scolded, walking past her husband at a brisk pace that belied her age and use of the cane. "You play with your toy trains in the attics, and I will make a difference in the world," she tossed over her shoulder.

"Model Railway, Madam!" Mr. Potter retorted. "King's Cross and its environs, circa 1920, complete down to the Caledonian road and its station!" He glanced at the boys and winked. "Hold out for strong-willed women, lads."

Sirius said in an undertone to James as they followed the Potters, "Have you not told them about Lily?"

James whispered back, "I wanted to do it in person." He laughed shortly. "I'd better tell them tonight."

"Why?"

"Because I invited Lily's family over for dinner."

Sirius asked with a sense of foreboding, "When?"

James said, "Tomorrow."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Anybody else hearing Little Orphan Annie sing in his or her head? LOL. Hate the song, actually, but good for me 'tomorrow' is actually a week away, since I don't have the chapter written. :D Sirius has had a 'hard knock life', heh, but he'll receive lots of TLC to make up for it. My apologies to those who looked forward to a Pirate Romance Novel dream-sequence- it didn't fit this week, so Sirius the swashbuckler will have to wait. The readers who were kind enough not to make me wait for a review last week were…...♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **An Aspiring Author **♥ **arb princess **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Femme Draconis **♥ **FNP **♥ **Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** GraceRichie **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥** potteronpotluvhim **♥** ronandhermy **♥ **Shadow-of the- Night35 **♥** Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥ **and **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥


	21. Visions of Sugarplums

Special Note: According to the Black family tree, Charlus and Dorea (Black) Potter had a son (unnamed). I choose to believe that these are James' parents. How do I reconcile Jo's description of them- _James's parents were elderly, were getting on a little when he was born, which explains the only child, very pampered, had-him-late-in-life-so-he's-an-extra-treasure, as often happens, I think. They were old in wizarding terms, and they died-_ with the tapestry's assertion that Dorea was 57 at her death? I think the Blacks played fast-and-loose with their dates, for reasons only a Black could fathom._ :D_

* * *

-

Chapter 21- Visions of Sugarplums

-

The crystal sparkled, the silver gleamed brightly, and the food was as good as the wine. Sirius sat back in his chair and sighed contentedly. The Potters had a gift for hospitality.

Beside him, James set aside his serviette and cleared his throat.

"Are you coming down with a cold, darling?" Mrs. Potter asked. Before her son could answer, she rang a bell.

The housekeeper bustled in. "Yes, Madam?"

"Please fetch James a Pepper Up Potion, Mrs. Stevens. He has a cold."

"I don't have a cold," said James.

"Good," said Mr. Potter. "Germs you young people shrug off might kill old folks like us."

Mrs. Potter peered across the table. "No cold? Perhaps you have a tickle in your throat." She turned to the housekeeper. "A throat lozenge, then, with a hot rum toddy."

"I don't need a hot toddy," James said.

"I'll take it," said Sirius, grinning.

"_Neither _of us needs a rum toddy," James said with a quelling look at his friend.

Sirius refrained from joking that he wanted one, anyway, heavy on the rum. His best mate frowned over anything to do with drinking since that incident with Snape, when firewhisky made a certain prank seem so brilliant.

"All right, we'll just have pudding," said Mrs. Potter.

"Trifle is very soothing to sore throats," Mrs. Stevens said, trading a conspiratorial smile with her mistress.

James waited until dessert was served to say, "Mother, Father, I was clearing my throat because I wanted to get your attention. There is something I need to tell you."

"He sounds just like your father when he speaks so formally, doesn't he Charlus?" Mrs. Potter said, pressing her hands to her heart.

"Quite, Dorea. Almost makes me fear receiving a stinging hex for nicking Cook's biscuits between meals." Smiling, Mr. Potter said, "We are not so old fashioned, son. Informal address is permissible."

"And much preferred," Mrs. Potter said with an adoring smile.

Sirius watched James nervously adjust his glasses. Clearing his throat again, James said, "Mum, Dad, there is something I want to tell you."

Mr. Potter's bushy white eyebrows drew together. "Need and want are two different things, son. Which is it?"

Mrs. Potter sighed. "Remember when James _needed _a Hippogriff for his fifth birthday?" Her lips pursed as she slanted a narrow-eyed look at her husband. "I still fail to see why that was such an unreasonable request."

"I had already acquired a pony, Madam. The boy _needed _to learn to ride. He only _wanted _to ride a Hippogriff!"

"Please refrain from argument in front of the children," Mrs. Potter scolded. "I read it makes them fret their parents are divorcing."

Sirius coughed to hide a laugh.

Next to him, James took a deep breath and said, "Mum, Dad, I need to tell you…I have a girlfriend."

"Yes, we know, Lily Evans," Mrs. Potter said brightly.

"How did you know?" demanded James.

"Aside from copious mentions in every correspondence you have sent in the last two years?" Mr. Potter gave a dry huff of laughter. "A fortunate guess."

James turned red in the face. "Yes, well, Lily is my girlfriend and…there's-something-else-I-need-to-tell-you," he finished in a garbled rush.

"Were you speaking Goblin?" Mrs. Potter said excitedly. "I must take you with me to the bank. I have always wanted to know what the clerks talk about in between customers!"

"No Mum, I said there is something else I need to tell you," James said determinedly.

Sirius was enjoying the tennis match of a conversation, watching the players lob verbal volleys back and forth across the table. Mrs. Potter reached for her husband's hand, holding it tightly as she said, "You want the Potter engagement ring, passed down to every generation except your father's, because we eloped?"

"You eloped?" Sirius asked. James shot daggers, prompting him to say, "You must tell me about that…some other time."

James took a breath and tried again, "I don't need the engagement ring…_right now," _he added, seeing his mother's face fall. When she smiled at the thought of his needing it some day, he said, "I've invited Lily and her family to dinner."

"_Tonight?" _growled Mr. Potter. "We're already to afters, my boy!"

"No, tomorrow night," James said.

Mrs. Potter beamed. "How thoughtful you are, giving us time to whip up a feast." She waved her hand. A quill and parchment appeared. She said, "What are their names, favourite colours and foods?"

"Erm…Mr. and Mrs. Evans and Lily's sister Petunia will be attending. Lily likes green, and I'm sure Muggle food isn't much different than Wizard."

"Did…did he say…_Muggle_, Charlus?" Mrs. Potter asked her husband.

"Yes, Dorea," Mr. Potter replied.

"Your Lily's family are truly Muggle, darling?" she asked her son.

"Yes," James answered warily.

Sirius thought Mrs. Potter would cry from happiness.

"Oh James!" she said, "This is more than a dinner. This is S.P.A.M. in action!" She rose to her feet. "There is so much to do. I must find Mrs. Stevens." At the door, she half-turned and said, "If I don't get round to tucking you in, boys, I'll see you bright and early in the morning! Goodnight!"

"Goodnight Mum!"

"Goodnight Mrs. Potter!"

Mr. Potter removed a cigar from an inner pocket of his robes when his wife left the room. He grinned at the boys and lit the cigar with a wave of his fingertips. "Let us adjourn to the attics, lads!"

I never failed to amaze Sirius how much artisanship went into the elaborate railway displays. The scenery was highly detailed, from the towns to the people in period dress. He had fun pressing buttons to activate the spells setting the trains into motion with lights and sound.

"Look over here! Dad's added a fairground diorama!"

Sirius walked over to see the minute fairground, lit up as at night, complete with a big wheel, swings, a roundabout, music and a carnival procession.

"Your mother hounded me to put it in, to show S.P.A.M. support," Mr. Potter said. "I find myself humming the tunes. Do you suppose a Dark wizard wrote them?"

"They're just catchy, Dad," James said.

"I don't know about that," Sirius joked. "When I hear the music, I get the urge to take a girl to the top of the big wheel."

"As do I!" Mr. Potter exclaimed. He turned off the music box. "I shall take this Muggle Artefact to the Ministry immediately after the holidays, to check for misuse."

"You're not really going to take Mum on a wheel, are you?" asked James, when his father walked to the main 'exhibition' to put the trains through their paces for his audience.

"We've already been, over a month ago, on Bonfire Night. Your mother and I could not but admire the ingenuity of Muggles, and their hardiness," Mr. Potter said. "Braving the elements without warming charms," he marvelled. "That was almost as impressive as their marvellous machinery!"

-

James muttered about his 'foolhardy' parents all the way down from the attics to their rooms. "Can you believe they went on a big wheel?"

Sirius said, "Without you? How shocking! There should be a ban on parents having fun without their children."

James laughed. "I am envious. I want to snog Lily at the top of one of those wheels!"

_I want to snog Rosmerta, _Sirius thought, bidding James goodnight.

After he climbed between Egyptian cotton sheets, Sirius drifted off to sleep. He dreamt of a fairground where Rosmerta clutched him tightly as the passenger gondola of the big wheel rocked into motion, lifting them into the air. He kissed away her fears, so by the time they reached the top, they were wrapped up in each other and oblivious of the lights of London spread out before them.

-

* * *

-

_The Caribbean sun beat down on the weathered deck of the merchant brig Constance. Standing beside the rail near the bow, Rose turned her face into the breeze, while at her side, her cousin groaned. "Am I completely green about the gills?" Fiona asked, clutching her stomach._

"_More pasty white, with a lovely film of sweat above your upper lip." _

"_Deuce take it! Captain McInnis is looking this way. Give me your handkerchief!"_

_Rose handed over the scrap of linen with a smile that faded when a cry echoed above the noise of the crew. _

"_Tis the Jolly Roger! She waves the Jolly Roger!"_

_The dread of the men on deck was palpable now that the vessel that had been a speck in the distance was identified as a pirate ship. _

"_We are too small to carry plunder worth their while," said the Captain as he approached the women. "We shall continue our course unless they prepare to ram and grapple." He said apologetically, "We will have to surrender if they do."_

_The pirate ship, a cutter, was lighter and faster than the law-abiding vessel. Within minutes, the lookout in the Constance's crow's nest cried, "It be the Black Joke, Captain! She ran up the white flag!"_

"_Are they surrendering?" Fiona asked the Captain._

_He laughed shortly. "No. They want something…" _

_Rose said, "Will they board?" _

"_Yes. I must ask you ladies to wait in my cabin until they depart."_

_The women hurried to do the Captain's bidding. _

"_This is a pleasant space. Spacious and elegant," Fiona said, gesturing to the damask draperies and china tea service upon the oak desk which doubled as a table. _

_Rose sat on the double bunk hewn into the ship. "Does that mean you will sail with your husband, Mrs. McInnis?"_

"_Hush! He has not mentioned marriage…yet," Fiona said with a wide smile._

_The women talked about weddings until they heard the unmistakeable sounds of Pirates boarding. _

"_What do you suppose they want?" asked Fiona._

_Rose looked out the porthole. "We will see," she said._

"_They are much quieter than I had thought," Fiona chattered nervously. "I expected to hear the clash of steel and smell the scent of gunpowder."_

"_Have you been reading romances again?" Rose teased._

"_I shall not answer, on the grounds that…Ahh!" Fiona cried, when the door to the cabin flew open._

"_Good afternoon, Ladies."_

_The laughing voice belonged to a pirate who sauntered inside the cabin and stood smiling at the women. Black hair framed a face that was more handsome than any illustration in a romance novel. His tall frame, clothed in a flowing white shirt, leather jerkin and breeches, gave the attire a casual elegance. _

"_Are you not…young…to be a pirate?" asked Fiona._

"_I'm past legal age, if that's your worry," the pirate said with a wink._

_Fiona turned bright pink. "You vile, revolting creature!"_

"_Sticks and stones, luv." Merry grey eyes turned to Rose. "I was told the governor's daughter was a lady who looks like a tavern wench." His eyes became smoky as they roamed her curves. "You must be Rose."_

_Rose lifted her chin proudly. "I am." Her heart, already pounding, began to race when he bowed._

"_Captain Maddog, at your service. I'll be escorting you to my ship until His Excellency and I come to terms."_

"_You are a mad dog!" Fiona shouted._

_A white smile flashed in a tanned face. "No, that was m'father. They call me Black Dog."_

"_Do not go with him," pleaded Fiona, when Rose stood. _

"_He will not hurt me," Rose said, "And if I do not, every soul on this ship is in jeopardy."_

"_Why? Have they not said their prayers?" Captain Maddog smiled to see Rose's lips twitch. _

_She hugged Fiona tightly. "I will send a letter as soon as I am able."_

_Her dear cousin's tears were hard to bear, but Rose walked out of the cabin with her shoulders squared in determination. _

"_I will report this atrocity at once," Captain McInnis told Rose as she passed him._

"_You do that," said Captain Maddog. He reached into his jerkin and brought out a letter sealed with wax. "The sooner His Excellency gets my letter, the sooner everything will be resolved. Savvy?"_

"_I understand," Captain McInnis gritted through his teeth. _

_Rose climbed down the rope ladder and sat silently in the boat as the pirates rowed their captain and his hostage back to the Black Joke. "Odd name for a ship," she said._

"_Constance? I agree. Sounds like a fusty old aunt."_

"_No, the Black Joke."_

_Captain Maddog grinned. "Means the Black Dog always has the last laugh, luv."_

_The men guffawed while Rose pressed her lips together. Once she stood upon the deck of the cutter, she listened to the captain remind his men to treat her better than their mothers and followed when he took her arm and steered her toward the captain's quarters. _

_Inside the cabin, she looked at the handsome pirate and asked bluntly, "Do you plan to have your way with me?"_

_A heart-stealing grin spread across his face. "I told your father I planned to marry his daughter, if you'll make an honest man of your lover, Rosie."_

_She threw herself into his arms. "Of course I'll marry you! I've wanted to run away with you since the night you came to the Masquerade and stole my heart." _

_His kisses made her knees weak. When she sagged against him, her love lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bunk. _

"_How do maidservants untie all these bloody knots?" he said in laughing frustration, tugging at her stays._

_Rose giggled. "Cut them, Sirius!"_

_-_

"ROS!"

Her father's shout brought Rosmerta out of her daydream.

"Where's that _book _I asked yeh to get me!"

Rosmerta looked at the two books she had been contemplating when her imagination had run away with her. _The Princess and Her Pirate _had a dark-haired heroine pressing her cleavage against a pirate's strapping, bare chest. _Pirate's Rose _depicted a black-haired pirate kissing his blonde ladylove's hand.

She shoved the _Pirate's Rose _novel back between the mattresses and walked down the corridor to her father's room.

Diarmid was sitting up in bed, fully dressed, with an expectant smile on his face. Rosmerta wondered if Iris had any idea what she was about to read. Her eyes went to Mrs. Bouquet. The woman smirked.

"I bin savin' this book for a snowy day," Diarmid said.

His gloating tone made Mrs. Bouquet's eyebrows rise. "Is it the equivalent of butterbeer, warm and frothy?"

"Hot chocolate, I'm thinkin'," Diarmid said, snickering.

Rosmerta handed Iris the book with an apologetic smile and backed out of the room. She paused on the top stair, curious to hear how the woman would react to her reading material.

"_Look there. Ain't that the biggest ass you've ever seen?" Ralph asked, and pointed gleefully over the head of his shipmates. _

"WHAT?" Rosmerta heard her father exclaim.

Mrs. Bouquet continued reading. The listener on the stairs had to cover her mouth in order not to laugh.

"_Ahh." Ralph sighed and shook his oversized head, apparently oblivious to the sickening roll of the ship. "Makes me 'appy just to think of the things I could do with an ass like that."_

Rosmerta, who had read the book and knew full well the 'ass' in question was an animal the farmer-turned-bodyguard watched on shore, was amused at her father's spluttering protests. Mrs. Bouquet ignored her patient's irate grumbles and continued to read in her pleasant, calm voice.

Smiling so widely her cheeks hurt, Rosmerta continued downstairs to retrieve her cloak.

Girl Guides assembling gingerbread houses filled the café area of Fiona's bookshop. At the counter, Mrs. McFee was assisting Fiona in setting out the candy needed for decoration.

"Auntie Rosmerta! Come look at my house," Natalie said, waving her over.

"It's charming!" Rosmerta said, admiring the storybook cottage.

"Mrs. McFee patterned it after her great-gran's cottage," the girl said excitedly. She lifted up a tiny gingerbread boy and girl. "These are the naughty vandals I'm going to bake in my oven!"

Emma, who sat across the table from her best friend, said sheepishly, "I ate my Hansel already."

"Rosmerta! Come help us pass out the candy," Fiona called.

"Like mother, like daughter, managing females you two," Rosmerta joked, taking a swipe of icing off a gingerbread roof. Her mouth immediately puckered.

"You're not supposed to _eat _it!" Natalie and the girls around her burst into laughter, watching Rosmerta run behind the counter to wash her mouth out in the sink.

"Have you never made a gingerbread house, my dear?" Mrs. McFee asked, with only a twinkle in her eye to betray amusement.

"Only gingerbread _castles _for the Princess of the Pub, eh Ros?" Fiona teased.

Rosmerta dried her face with a tea towel. "Neither, actually. My mother thought Christmas a Muggle-ish holiday, so we barely decorated." She gazed around the shop decked with boughs of holly along with greenery and candles. "You've done a fabulous job, Fiona."

"Thanks, now let's pass out the candy before the start gluing each other to the chairs with that icing!"

-

After a gift exchange of handcrafted presents, the group gathered around the small fireplace in the back wall of the café. Each girl held a piece of parchment in her hands stating a Christmas wish to benefit others. One by one, they tossed in their letters and watched the draft carry the smoke up for Father Christmas to 'read.'

"Leaders too!" Natalie reminded.

Fiona and Mrs. McFee threw theirs in, but when Rosmerta went to fling her parchment into the flames, the door to the bookshop opened, and the gust of wind that entered carried her letter away from the fire, toward the front door.

Hamish McInnis strode forward and bent to pick up the parchment. "Did someone lose their…" He faltered, a red tinge matching his scarf colouring his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I thought it was a Christmas drawing, I didn't mean to read it," he said, extending the paper to Rosmerta.

"Don't say what she wrote or it won't come true!" Natalie cried, running to Hamish. "Wouldn't you be sorry if she didn't get her Christmas wish?"

Bright blue eyes flickered from the girl to her mother and landed on Rosmerta, who smiled uncertainly. Hamish winked. "Aye, I'd be sorry indeed."

Rosmerta carried her letter to the fireplace and dropped it into the flames, hoping a magic more powerful than Father Christmas' would make her wish come true.

**Please let Hamish realise Fiona cares for him and kiss her beneath the mistletoe.**

-

* * *

-

"Does the house look inviting, Sirius?" Mrs. Potter asked for the third time that day.

Everywhere he looked, red, green, gold, white, and silver ribbons adorned holly, ivy, and evergreen wreaths, garlands, and boughs. "It's a winter wonderland," he said with a smile.

"That's a lovely phrase, _winter wonderland. _Takes me back to that Christmas in Lapland, when James made the reindeer fly and we slept in a Lappish snow village…" Her soft, nostalgic tone abruptly became businesslike. "I made sure all the candles are on tables and mantels, not floating about the house."

"Er…any particular reason why?" asked Sirius.

"I read that some Muggles become nervous in surroundings too dissimilar to what they are used to." She brushed the ruby velvet skirt of her floor length gown and reached out to adjust Sirius' bow tie. "These people will most likely become family. I want them to feel right at home."

At that moment, James rushed into the Drawing Room. "Has Lily arrived?"

His mother bustled over to smooth his tuxedo lapel. "No, dearest."

Mr. Potter entered the room, tugging at his tuxedo jacket. "Dress robes are far more comfortable," he said. "I feel like a ruddy penguin." Walking over to a table near the drinks cabinet, he said, "Cook has outdone herself with the eggnog this year. Would anyone care for a glass?"

"Brandy or sherry in the nog?" Sirius asked.

"Brandy."

"Then yes, please, I would love a glass."

Sirius had drunk an entire bottle of nauseatingly sweet sherry one memorable Christmas, and loathed the smell and taste ever since. He took the cup Mr. Potter offered and turned to the others. "Would anyone else like a cup?"

"No thanks. My stomach is churning," said James.

"I had better abstain, dear. I've had two cups already," Mrs. Potter said with a mischievous smile. "I should not to want to slur my words by the end of dinner. James would never forgive me."

"I would forgive you, Mum…but I wouldn't let you forget it."

The men in the room jumped when the sound of music filled the air.

_Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!_

"What the blazes?" Mr. Potter demanded.

Mrs. Potter smiled delightedly. "I read that Muggles have devices called _doorbells _that play music to alert their hosts to their presence. I altered the wards on the front door to make our guests feel at home. Isn't the sound lovely?"

_Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!_

"Yes, Mum, and _loud _as well. We need to answer the door before they go deaf!"

"James, I know you are excited, but please, refrain from exaggeration." She placed her hand on her husband's sleeve and said, "Now, let us welcome our guests."

-

* * *

-

A/N: There was once a pirate called Black Bart Roberts (that's where Dread Pirate Roberts from the Princess Bride came from) who commanded the Black Joke. _Pirate's Rose_ is a title that caught my eye while doing, erm, research for this chap. _The Princess and Her Pirate_ by Lois Greiman, is the only novel I used for quotes and cover description as well as the title. I found another pirate romance that opened with a conversation eventually revealed to be about a large rooster, but I refrained from using it…didn't want to give Diarmid a heart attack, LOL. The people who kept my heart beating with happiness over their reviews last chap were_…_…... **40/16 ****alix33 ****An Aspiring Author ****arb princess ****Carnivalgirl ****comettail ****cupcakeswirl ****FNP ****Freja Lercke-Falkenborg ****GraceRichie ****ishandtwofourths ****Machiavelli Jr **(I like here over SU, but I'm happy to get a review anytime, anywhere, lol) **MollyCoddles ****Moonlight ****Sivaroobini Lupin-Black ****Slipknot-3113 ****Sophia Loren sunny9847 ****Watch Out for Yellow Moon **and **Zenna **


	22. SPAM and Mistletoe

Chapter 22- SPAM and Mistletoe

-

Mrs. Potter saw the housekeeper in the entrance hall and called, "No need for ceremony. I will answer the door."

Mrs. Stevens inclined her head respectfully. "Very well, Madam. Shall I alert Cook?"

"Yes, tell her our guests have arrived and we shall expect dinner in half an hour," said Mrs. Potter. She told her son, "I've read Muggles in wizard surroundings become more relaxed after partaking food and wine."

Sirius grinned. "I know I do!"

"Here, here!" said Mr. Potter.

_Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!_

"Mother! Answer the door!" James shouted over the celestial chorus.

"_Mum's_ the word!" Dorea corrected playfully, before reaching for the front door handle.

The guests waiting on the marble step squinted when the light of the entrance hall spilled out into the night. Mr. Potter harrumphed. "Confounded new illumination orbs never work properly." He clapped his hands. Instantly, the orbs suspended on either side of the doorway lit by magic.

Three of the four people outside shrank back. Lily stepped forward. Mrs. Potter enveloped her in a hug. "Dearest Lily, I have heard so much about you from James' letters. I cannot _begin _to describe how _much _we have looked forward to meeting you and your lovely family. Come in! Come in!" she cried, waving to the family while keeping an arm around Lily's waist.

Sirius watched Mr. and Mrs. Evans slowly enter with their eldest daughter. He was glad for James' sake Lily bore little resemblance to the rest of her family. The other three were tall and thin, with long necks and, in the sister's case, a face that made him hope she had a good personality.

"Charlus Potter, pleasure to make your acquaintance," greeted Mr. Potter, shaking each of his guest's hands.

"Did…did you attend a Christmas play?" Mrs. Evans asked with a shy smile, after introductions were made and the group had removed to the drawing room. She nervously smoothed down the green wool skirt of her two-piece suit while looking at her host's clothing. "_A Christmas Carol_, perhaps?"

James muttered to Sirius, "I knew we were overdressed! The woman thinks we're in ruddy costume!_"_

Sirius whispered back, "Who cares? Lily is eating you up with her eyes, so go talk to her!"

While James walked over to where his girlfriend and her sister were standing, Mrs. Potter handed Lily's mother a cup of eggnog. "I _adore _Dickens," she said, blithely avoiding a direct answer. "I cry every time the Ghost of Christmas reveals Tiny Tim will die unless the future is changed."

"So does my wife," Mr. Evans said with a smile. "Goes through tissues something fierce."

"Tissues," Mrs. Potter said thoughtfully. "Disposable handkerchiefs, am I correct?" Seeing her guests' nods, she asked curiously, "They are never laundered?"

"Only when my husband forgets to remove one from his pocket," Mrs. Evans replied humourously.

Pleased that Lily's parents weren't prune-faced sticks like their oldest daughter, Sirius walked over to help his mate. The non-flowery Petunia was eyeing James as though he was something slimy and dangerous.

"Sirius!" James said, relief shining in his eyes. "You haven't had the…uh…pleasure…of…er…meeting Petunia, have you?"

"Only for the briefest of moments," said Sirius, mentally adding, _Thank the stars…girl's hand felt like a dead fish or a cold noodle…_

"The introduction was _quite _sufficient," Petunia said frostily.

Her tone brought out the Black in Sirius. "Not for me," he said. "I didn't learn near enough about you. You'll have to tell me all about yourself during dinner."

"I am sure you would not be interested."

Of course, he wouldn't! In Sirius' opinion, the girl should've been named Ragweed, but for James, and because it would irritate the snotty prude, he plastered on a smile. "Sure I would," he said. "First thing I want to know is your favourite colour."

"I don't have one," Petunia said curtly, taking a step closer to Lily, who edged nearer to James.

Sirius glanced at her high-necked, ankle-length dress. "You want me to guess? Okay, it's grey, right?" He winked at Lily. "Like my eyes."

"Absolutely not!"

He moved closer to Petunia and widened his eyes. "Yes, they are grey. See?"

Her head jerked back. "I see, but my favourite colour is not grey, especially not such a tarnished, pewter grey."

"I have tarnished eyes?" Sirius said laughingly to James.

"Better polish them up, old man," said James, grinning.

"Don't worry, girls call them storm cloud grey, which is very romantic." Lily patted his arm in mock-consolation.

"Thank you, Lily, you are the sweetest of flowers," Sirius said theatrically.

"Humph. That's original," Petunia scoffed.

Jealous of her pretty sister, was she? Sirius gave Lily a look of commiseration. He had a resentful sibling too, and spiteful envy was no joy to live with. "What I lack in originality, I make up in sincerity," he said with a soulful look.

Petunia's lips twisted. James and Lily laughed.

"Oh how splendidly our children are getting along!" said Mrs. Potter to Mrs. Evans. "I'm loath to break up their happy conversation, but Mrs. Stevens is gesturing that dinner is ready."

"We'll tear ourselves away for you, Mrs. Potter," said Sirius.

She patted his cheek. "What a wonderful boy you are. I am sure Petunia will enjoy your charming company at dinner."

He smiled without comment, although Sirius was sure Petunia would only enjoy being haughty and snide. He planned to fortify himself against the chill of her company with several glasses of wine.

"Shall we, my dear?" Mr. Potter asked, offering his arm.

Mr. Evans, looking amused and a bit embarrassed, did the same for his wife.

After James and Lily followed the parents, Sirius turned and asked Petunia, "Miss Evans, may I escort you to dinner?"

"I'll walk beside you," she said tersely.

Sirius had to walk fast to keep up with Petunia's determined march. "You've very…tall," he said, when she looked his way. It was not the best of compliments, but it was all that came to mind. She wasn't impressed.

"Really? I wondered why I had such large feet."

He laughed. She didn't. Sirius looked down. "If you had small feet, you wouldn't have much balance, would you?" he said jokingly, trying to help her look on the bright side. It was Christmas, after all. He could get along with a non-magical witch for a few hours.

Petunia shot him a look of contempt. "Are all handsome men stupid, or is it only you?"

Sirius almost told the horse-faced harpy what to do with herself, but figured pay back was in order. If she thought he was stupid _now, _wait until he got through with her.

In the dining room, he pulled out her chair and said, "So you think I'm handsome?"

-

By the end of dinner, Petunia had two reddish splotches of colour on her cheeks and murder in her eyes. Sirius thought it almost made her attractive. He was feeling much more in charity with the stiff-lipped sister, after asking every moronic question about Muggles that he could think of for the last hour and a half.

James had stifled laughter a couple of times, but he and Lily were enjoying each other's company too much to care if Petunia snapped and tossed a glass of wine in Sirius' face or stabbed him with her butter knife. Mrs. Potter, the dear, sweet lady, thought he was asking because of S.P.A.M.

In the drawing room after dinner, she said, "I could not help but overhear parts of your conversation, Sirius, and I must say, I am delighted my activism has rubbed off on you!"

"Activism?" said Mrs. Evans.

"Oh, my, I had not intended to bring up the subject," said Mrs. Potter. Her apologetic expression suddenly brightened. "Since you seem _interested,_ however, I will tell you that I belong to a…sort of women's auxiliary, if I have termed it correctly, and we support the protection and acceptance of M-non magical people."

"Are you telling us there are wizards who _don't _support non-magical people?" Mr. Evans said uneasily.

James shot Sirius a panicked look and said, "Mum, may I take the girls on a tour of the house?"

"That is an _excellent _idea!" Mrs. Potter said. "You boys and girls run along."

Mr. Potter's stern admonition followed the pairs walking toward the door. "Stay away from my model railways!" he said, "No unauthorised personages are allowed in the attics!"

"You have model railways in the attics?" Mr. Evans asked eagerly, apparently forgetting the earlier topic. "I should like a tour of that!"

As he left the room, Sirius heard James' dad say, "Have a cigar, my good man."

Down the hallway, James paused and asked Lily, "What would you like to see first?"

"Your room," she said with a smile. "The nursery you told me about, too, with the magical toys."

"I don't want to see that," Petunia stated flatly.

"What do _you_ want to see?" Sirius asked through his teeth.

"The kitchen."

"Fine. I'll take you to see the kitchen, and James will take Lily upstairs."

Petunia grabbed her sister's arm as she made to leave. "I'll know if you've been getting up to anything, so you'd better behave yourself!"

Sirius was unsure whether the malevolent words alone or a combination of words and the glasses of wine with dinner triggered the flashback, but something caused a vivid memory to spring to mind.

-

"_I'll know if you've been trying to peek at your presents, Sirius," his mother warned, "so you'd best behave yourself." _

"_I won't look," he said earnestly._

"_If you disobey, when I return from shopping, the first thing I will do is throw your stocking into the fireplace," Walburga promised._

_When his mother left, Sirius went searching for his brother. "Want to go play outside, Reggie?"_

"_No. It's too cold." _

"_Then let's play something inside," Sirius said impatiently. It was bad enough to be nine and have no one to play with except imaginary pirates and a bookworm brother. The least Reggie could do was get off his arse every once in awhile and try to have fun!_

"_Want to look for our Christmas presents?" asked Reggie._

_Sirius laughed. "And have them thrown in the fireplace? No fun in that!"_

"_We wouldn't peek at them, only find the hiding place."_

_Put like that… "Okay," said Sirius, "Let's go!"_

_They had barely walked into their mother's room when she returned. "I forgot my purse," Walburga said with disquieting calm, "and look what I find?"_

"_We weren't going to peek. Ask Reggie, he'll tell you. We were only going to see if we could guess where you hid them!" cried Sirius._

_Reggie began to sob. "It was his idea, Mother! Throw his stocking into the fire, not mine!"_

_Walburga smiled grimly. "Oh I will."_

_-_

Residual anger toward his mother transferred to Petunia. Sirius' hand shot out, encircling a bony wrist. He pulled down, gently breaking her hold on Lily's arm. She stared at him with huge, shocked eyes. "How dare you touch me!"

He told James and Lily, "Go on up. I'll give Petunia her tour."

Once the pair walked out of sight, Petunia shrilled, "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Sirius said, "You can walk, or I can levitate your stupefied body. Which would you prefer?"

"You…you can't do magic outside school…you don't have your wand...I know the rules!"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Rules are meant to be broken, and I can do wandless magic."

_Rictusempra, at least, _he thought, smirking over the mental image of Petunia rolling on the floor with laughter. She misinterpreted his expression.

"I've been under your spell all night, haven't I?" she said bitterly.

Sirius barked, "My WHAT?"

Petunia's laugh had an eerie, braying quality to it. "You know _exactly _what I mean," she said, striding forward.

Alarm replaced Sirius' anger as he backed away. "No, I don't, and I don't want to either," he said. "I've changed my mind. The kitchen's that way, down the stairs. Mrs. Stevens will be happy to give you a tour."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Every step Petunia took, Sirius matched in backward retreat. He waved a hand toward the other end of the corridor. "Go on. They have medieval ovens, a Renaissance rotisserie, a Victorian…something or other… You don't want to miss all that culinary history!"

"You know I can't leave until I give you what you want," she said.

"I want you to go to the kitchen…alone…this minute," Sirius ordered, feeling as though he'd stepped out of a bad memory and into a nightmare.

"Look!" Petunia cried, with an expression of fascinated revulsion.

With dread crawling down his spine, Sirius raised his eyes to the mistletoe hanging in doorway he was nearing. He glanced back at Petunia. The girl had a flushed face and a crazy gleam in her eye. Instinctively, he cast a spell before grabbing the door handle like a lifeline and stumbling into the drawing room calling, _"Mrs. Potter!"_

_-_

* * *

_-_

Rosmerta glanced down at the drawing one more time before she fell back on the bed and rolled with laughter. The sketch of Petunia showing exaggerated horse-teeth, clutching her sides in mirth while Sirius hid behind Mrs. Potter, peering apprehensively over her shoulder was so hilarious, tears came to Rosmerta's eyes.

She kept laughing so hard she had to run to the loo. Washing her hands, Rosmerta studied her face in the mirror and said, "Look at you. Starry-eyed, laughing and mooning over Sirius like a silly girl." Her reflection laughed.

Rosmerta walked back into the bedroom and picked up the letter, musing aloud, "Maybe women of all ages feel this way when they're in-" She caught her breath.

"Infatuated_,"_ she told herself. Women felt this way when they were in the throes of infatuation. She turned on the wizarding wireless radio.

_L is for the way you look at me…_

Rosmerta quickly turned the dial. She didn't want to hear a song spell out LOVE!

A little voice in the back of her mind taunted, _Even though he's the only one you see, and very extra-ordinary, even more than any other man you've ever known?_

"Especially then," Rosmerta said. Her voice sounded wistful. Annoyed with herself, she snapped off the radio and picked up Sirius' letter, re-reading the last lines.

**Although Mrs. Potter kindly delivered breakfast in bed to help me 'recover from the post-traumatic stress of sexual harassment', I'll only be fully _recovered _when you visit. You won't make me wait until Christmas Eve, will you? Two days is too long! I'll wait tonight, alone and traumatised, for you to grace the New and Ignoble House of Black. **

**Yours, with mistletoe**

Rosmerta sat down at her desk. She'd spent too much time reading Sirius' letter and was now almost late to meet the train with her shipment. Hastily, she scratched out a note.

**I'll visit, and bring a present to help you 'recover.'**

**Yours, beneath the mistletoe**

-

After sending the owl off with her letter, Rosmerta grabbed her cloak and ran out the door toward the village stables. She had just finished hitching Blackie up to a cart when a red-hooded figure called, "Auntie Rosmerta! Auntie Rosmerta! May I ride with you to the station?"

"Have you asked your mother?"

Natalie Fowl nodded vigorously. "She said yes if you say yes!"

Rosmerta smiled. "I'll give you a hand up, then."

It was a nice feeling, having a child's warmth beside her on the bench as they rolled toward Hogsmeade station. Natalie was a darling little girl, and usually full of bright chatter. Today, she was quiet. The bells on the horse's harness were the only cheerful sounds echoing on the snow lined path.

"Are you ready for Christmas?" asked Rosmerta.

"I'm ready for Father Christmas to bring me presents," Natalie said, youthfully candid.

Rosmerta chuckled. "Aren't you looking forward to Christmas dinner as well?"

"Not really. Turkey makes me sleepy when I want to play with my toys."

"You could eat ham or roast beef instead."

"But I _like _turkey!" Natalie said.

Rosmerta smiled down at her favourite Girl Guide. "Then eat it. No one will mind if it makes you yawn."

"Mum will mind if I don't cover my mouth," the girl said, giggling.

Rosmerta caught the girl's giggles, laughing in response to the child's laughter. After a few minutes, Natalie said, "You're my favourite person, 'sides Mum, Auntie."

"Thank you, but I think you forgot your father."

Small, pink lips turned down. "Emma said he's not a person, he's just a ghost."

Rosmerta said lightly, "While your friend is very knowledgeable about some things, she doesn't know everything, Natalie. A ghost is a different _type_ of person, and Artie is still your father."

"He's not Mum's husband anymore, though, is he?"

Natalie sounded close to tears. Rosmerta said carefully, "No. Once a partner…moves on…the one left behind isn't married to them anymore, but they will always care for each other and remember how much they shared."

"But Daddy doesn't have anyone to kiss him under the mistletoe! He's all alone!"

The girl must have seen Hamish kiss Fiona, Rosmerta thought. Natalie was a sensitive child, to become so upset. Taking the reins in one hand and wrapping the other around Natalie, Rosmerta said, "I promise your daddy is happy your mum has Hamish to be her…"

"Boyfriend," Natalie said helpfully.

"Yes," said Rosmerta, "Because ghosts don't feel _romantic."_

"'Cause they can't feel their lips when they kiss?"

That was as good an explanation as any Rosmerta could devise. She nodded. "Your father isn't upset, and he isn't alone. He has the most important person coming to see him every day."

"Me?" said Natalie, starting to smile.

"MmHmm."

"Are you _crying?" _Natalie asked in amazement.

Rosmerta sniffed. "'Course not. The wind makes my eyes tear up."

"Mine too," Natalie said, rubbing her eyes with the back of a red mitten.

The sound of the horse's bells gave Rosmerta an idea. "Want to sing a carol?"

"Which one?"

Rosmerta gave her young friend an affectionate squeeze. _"Jingle Bells!" _

-

* * *

- 

Sirius paced back and forth across the lounge, wondering if he'd overplayed his traumatised-by-Petunia act. What if Rosmerta thought he didn't want to kiss _anybody _after narrowly averting Miss Evan's thin lips? The irony might kill him.

A whooshing sound brought his eyes to the fireplace. Rosmerta stepped out, basket in hand, looking like a Christmas angel in white. A sexy angel, wearing trousers and a jumper made of some soft, clingy material. He grinned. She must have used white Floo powder. "Thanks for the present," he said, looking her up and down. "I feel better already."

"My outfit isn't the present," she said with a self-conscious laugh. "This is." Rosmerta lifted the basket. "I bring goodies from Mrs. McFee, and supplies to make a gingerbread house."

Sirius was pleased to hear she'd brought food, because he was only stocked up on drinks, but the other… "I've never made a gingerbread house before," he said.

"Me either, but I made sure to get the kind of icing we can lick. I found out with the Guides that the other kind is awful," she said, grimacing.

A smile spread across Sirius' face. "Do I get to lick your fingers?"

The corners of her mouth turned up. "What if I get icing on my lips?"

He padded forward. "Then I'll lick them too." When he got in kissing distance, Sirius noticed a barrette in Rosmerta's hair and began to laugh.

"I told you I'd be yours beneath the mistletoe," she said with a smile.

He gently touched the sprig of mistletoe affixed to the barrette and then stroked her cheek. She tipped her face and parted her lips, smiling. He took what she offered and gave the gentlest, sweetest kiss to show how glad he was that she was there, in his house, and in his arms. When Rosmerta touched her tongue to his, he deepened the kiss, caressing her more boldly.

"Oh gods, Sirius," she moaned when his hands slid from her front to her back and smoothed down to cup her bottom. He pulled her hips into his and bit down on a moan himself when she moved against him.

Sirius almost desperately wished Rosmerta was inviting him to touch more intimately, but he knew she wasn't. There were different kinds of wriggles, and hers said 'let me go.' Reluctantly, he stepped away from temptation. Her hair was tousled, her lips and cheeks rosy, her blue eyes dark. He took another step back. "Gingerbread house?"

"Hmm? Right! Uhm…here? Now?"

What he wouldn't give to hear her say 'Here!' or 'Now!' in a different situation. Sirius hoped his smile didn't look pained. "Let's go to the kitchen. It's cold."

Rosmerta gave a startled giggle. "In your cold kitchen, would there be a coolant cabinet with icy butterbeer in it? I could use one."

Sirius grinned. "How about two? One for now, and one for after the icing."

She licked her lips and picked up the picnic basket.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Since Muggles do covers of each others songs so often, why not wizards doing a cover of Nat King Cole's LOVE? If readers wonder whether Sirius and Rosmerta's gingerbread house will be a work of art or the sorriest looking edible structure in the wizarding world, they'll find out next week, when Christmas Eve is spent in very merry ways! The readers whose reviews made my week merrier were……...♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥** amazon101 **♥ **arb princess **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **FNP **♥ **Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** GraceRichie **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥** Lilia Black **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** mon-ami-runa **♥** Moonlight **♥** NaginiFay **♥** petiteloupegarou **♥** potteronpotluvhim **♥** RahNee **♥**Shadow-of the- Night35 **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ and ♥ **Ylime166 **♥

* * *


	23. Night Before Christmas

Chapter 23- Night Before Christmas

-

"That," said James, gazing at the lopsided edible structure on Sirius' mantel, "is without doubt, the _worst _gingerbread house I've ever seen."

"I think it has a certain careless elegance," Sirius replied, smiling in fond memory of its construction. He'd placed more icing on Rosmerta than the house, and enjoyed licking it off so much he'd happily stood in a cold shower afterwards, belting out Christmas Carols.

"There are hardly any sweets," James said critically. "Did you eat them all?"

"Obviously I didn't nick them _all _for myself," Sirius said, "or the house would be bare, and I see several gumdrops, a few pieces of liquorice, and a number of…"

"Did you suck on that mint and then stick it to the roof?" asked James, staring incredulously at the faded colour of the sweet in question.

Sirius grinned in answer. He could hardly say, 'no, I sucked on it, and then Rosmerta kissed me and retrieved the mint with her tongue and _then _I stuck it on the roof!'

Impulsively, he reached out to pick it off and see if it still tasted like her.

"Stop that!" James said. "The house is sorry enough without you nicking what few decorations managed to avoid your gullet!"

"My _gullet?" _said Sirius. "You sound tetchy as your father when he doesn't get a second helping of pudding. It's Christmas Eve! Where's your peace and goodwill?"

James' shoulders rose and fell. The unhappy expression on his best mate's face was troubling. Sirius said, "You didn't come over at the break of day to criticise my gingerbread house. What's wrong?"

"It's ten o'clock," said James, avoiding the question.

"Like I said, break of day." Sirius' grin wasn't returned. He sighed. "I need coffee. Since I have none, we'll go to your house."

"I suppose I'll have to let Cook feed you as well," James said with a hint of a smile.

Sirius clapped his friend on the shoulder. "There's some Christmas spirit!"

-

Finishing the last bite of a breakfast that rivalled those served at Hogwarts, Sirius set down his fork and took up the conversation his friend had been evading. "What's wrong?"

"I'm to spend the day with Lily," James said miserably.

Sirius barked with laughter. "You poor devil, forced to spend time with the girl who adores you almost as much as you do her!"

"_Almost?_" said James, frowning.

"Give her time, mate," Sirius grinned. "Last year she called you an insufferable prat, this year Lily's snogging you behind statues. That's pretty impressive progress."

James said thoughtfully, "Yes, it is."

"So why the long face?"

"Her sister's to come along as chaperone."

Sirius grimaced. "Bit Victorian of the parents, isn't it?"

James hesitated, and then burst out, "Petunia found a letter I'd sent to Lily and gave it to her parents, as _proof _we've been doing more than…" Face red, James finished, "than we should be."

"Now _you _sound Victorian," Sirius said, shaking his head. "What was in the letter?"

"Nothing to warrant this," said James. "I only said how much I missed her, and couldn't wait to…uh…kiss her and…erm…touch her skin."

"Define skin- did you say breasts?"

James' eyes became huge behind his glasses. "Of course not! I…we haven't…NO!"

"Why not?" Sirius asked curiously.

"I respect Lily too much to do anything she doesn't want me to."

Sirius didn't ask how James knew what Lily wanted him to do. That was their business. He said, "I'll tag along and keep Petunia from ruining the day, if you like."

James' jaw dropped. "I can't…it's too much to ask…would you really? _Yes?_ Merlin, of course I'd like it!" His smile was ear-to-ear.

Sirius snickered. "Think it'll get me onto the 'nice' list?"

-

Mr. and Mrs. Evans looked taken aback to see Sirius on their doorstep. He looked down at the red and white jumper he'd borrowed from James. Didn't the eight tiny reindeer prancing across the front make him look Muggle and 'normal' the way his mate told him it would?

Mrs. Evans recovered first, inviting them into the cosy, detached home with a warm smile. "How nice of you to want to make friends with Petunia after what happened," she whispered, patting Sirius' arm. She led the way to the lounge, pausing to call up the stairs, "Lily, Petunia, the boys are here!"

"_Boys?" _a shrill voice queried, when everyone in the group except Sirius had entered the lounge.

He turned to meet the appalled gaze of Lily's sister. "Hello Petunia," he said, willing to let bygones be bygones.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered venomously, descending the stairs.

"I've never seen a pantomime," he said lightly, "so I'm tagging along."

Petunia scoffed, "Never seen a pantomime…" His headshake caused her to ask uncertainly, "Really?"

"I had a deprived childhood," Sirius said straight-faced.

For an instant, an expression of pity crossed her angular features, but then her lips pursed. "That is no excuse for bad behaviour!"

"No, it isn't," he agreed sombrely.

Petunia stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Are you serious?"

"Always," he said.

Bright laughter made Sirius look up at the staircase and grin, "Hello, Lily."

She rushed down the stairs and hugged him. "Always Sirius?" she whispered laughingly. "Thank you for being such a good friend to James."

"I'm your friend too," said Sirius.

"Are we going to stand here all day, Lily?" Petunia demanded. "Won't your boyfriend wonder why you're lingering in the entry with his best mate?"

Sirius watched Lily flush in anger and quickly said, "He probably thinks you two are laughing at my jumper. Ridiculous, isn't it?"

Petunia's lips twisted. "Quite."

"I think it's very…Christmas-y," Lily said, walking into the lounge.

Petunia marched past Sirius, pausing to say haughtily, "Damning with faint praise is still damning."

"I see grey truly is your favourite colour," he murmured wickedly, smirking at her twin-set and trousers. She pretended not to hear, but Petunia the prune had spots of colour on her sharp cheekbones.

"Would you care for a cup of eggnog?" Mr. Evans asked each person.

Sirius accepted a cup with a smile and took a sip. He almost spit it out again. Where was the flavour? The _brandy?_

"Our family does not believe in adding spirits to eggnog," Petunia informed with a malicious smile.

"I don't want ghosts in the nog either," Sirius quipped.

She looked away pointedly. Sirius glanced at James and shrugged. If Petunia didn't want to be civil, he couldn't force her. James gave him a 'stick in there, mate' smile.

The four of them took a bus to the Victoria Palace Theatre. On the way, he and James asked Lily about the pantomime, _Dick Whittington._

She told them it was about a man who eventually became Lord Mayor of London, thanks to the riches earned when his cat rid a land infested with rats of its plague. James said to Sirius, "Wonder how Peter would like that story?"

"He'd hate it." Sirius laughed, imagining Peter rooting for the rats.

"Why?" asked Lily.

"Peter thinks rats are misunderstood creatures," James told her with a smile.

"I think they're vile, disease-ridden vermin who deserve to be exterminated!" exclaimed Petunia.

Sirius turned his head. "Oh, so you didn't fall asleep. I wondered."

"My eyes have been open the entire time."

He said, "Loads of animals sleep with their eyes open."

"Name one," Petunia challenged.

Sirius rubbed his chin. "Cows keep their eyes open while they sleep, and snakes never close their eyes…"

"Snakes are reptiles, and they don't even _have _eyelids!"

"That's beside the point," Sirius said dismissively. "Kangaroos sleep with their eyes open, too, and so do Guinea pigs…"

"I don't need to hear anymore," Petunia said. She regarded him steadily, asking, "Where did you learn all that? Your school of witchcraft?"

"I prefer the wizardry part, but no, I read those facts in a book one summer," Sirius answered.

"You read for _enjoyment_?" Flat disbelief rang in Petunia's voice.

Sirius decided to indulge in a little Black humour. "I enjoy anything I can do horizontally."

Petunia's nostrils flared, and Sirius almost expected to see her eyes roll like a spooked horse. Stiffly, she turned toward the window, giving him the cold shoulder. Warm in his jumper, Sirius didn't mind one bit, and merrily resumed his conversation with James and Lily.

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta had originally intended for her Christmas Eve party to be for staff only, but like her feelings for Sirius, it had grown in leaps and bounds. First, she'd run into Mrs. McFee in the apothecary and asked if she had any plans that afternoon. Then, a stop into the bookshop had Rosmerta impulsively inviting Fiona, Natalie and Hamish too.

Natalie, employing puppy-dog eyes, had asked if Emma could come. The next thing Rosmerta knew, every Witch Guide and Wizard Scout was trooping through the door of the Broomsticks with their parents in tow.

When Hagrid ducked in to ask if the pub was open, she invited him to stay and cheerfully tapped another keg.

At the darts board, Dorrie and Maisy were organising a battle-of-the-sexes tournament with the Guides and Scouts. They smiled and waved to their boss, no doubt pleased with the Christmas bonuses she'd given them. On a shelf beneath the bar, Rosmerta noticed a lone pay packet. She picked it up and asked Fiona and Hamish to tend bar before walking back to the kitchen.

Callum's curly dark head was bent over a tray of sandwiches he was putting together. Rosmerta said, "I didn't mean to put you to work on Christmas Eve."

"I'm sure you added extra galleons to my bonus," he said, in the low, raspy voice Dorrie claimed gave her 'good shivers.'

Rosmerta thought the enigmatic artist/cook could use a sunny barmaid in his life. She placed his packet on the counter. "Guilt money is included…do you mind?"

"Spends just as easily as the galleons I earn," he assured with a fleeting smile.

After he'd handed her the tray, she gathered her nerve to say, "There's a mistletoe ball floating around the pub. If you kissed Dorrie beneath it, you'd make her happier than Father Christmas ever could."

"I don't know about that," said Callum. "Women like that I'm an artist, but they don't like that I spend more time painting than with them."

"Take a chance," Rosmerta said. "It's Christmas."

He smiled. "Okay."

Feeling chuffed over her matchmaking abilities; Rosmerta delivered the food to the hungry guests and made her way over to the bar where Fiona and Hamish were kissing. "Sorry, loves, you have to share the mistletoe," she said, waving her wand to send the ball floating in Dorrie's direction.

"What a Scrooge she is," Fiona said to Hamish, grinning.

"I think she's a Christmas Angel for hanging the mistletoe in your shop," he replied.

Rosmerta smiled. "I'm glad you two put it to good use."

"What about you?" asked Fiona, hand on hip. "Have you kissed a single bloke under the mistletoe?"

The memory of Sirius' lips made Rosmerta's face feel hot. "Are you two hungry? There are sandwiches if you want something other than sweets."

"You're blushing. Why are you blushing? Are you seeing somebody?" Fiona's voice rose in excitement.

"No! I'm not dating anyone!" _Publicly, _Rosmerta thought, looking around, hoping no one had heard.

Callum was walking out of the kitchen corridor. He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Rosmerta watched him walk toward the darts board, biting her lip. She would say that in front of the one person who knew she _was _seeing someone!

Fiona took her arm and whispered, "You don't fancy _Callum, _do you? I thought you were trying to fix him up with Dorrie? She's been crazy about him for ages!"

Rosmerta sighed in frustration. "Of course I don't fancy Callum! I was just in the kitchen telling him to give Dorrie a kiss under the mistletoe."

Hamish chuckled. "You encourage him to date when you're not. No wonder he threw that look."

Fiona said, "That settles it. You're coming with me and Natalie to the McInnis' farm for Christmas Dinner. Hamish has single cousins who are almost as good-looking as he is. You're bound to find one of them fanciable!"

"Even if I was willing to impose on Hamish's family, I can't leave my Da," said Rosmerta.

"No imposition," Hamish said. "We're a large, noisy bunch, and good friends are always welcome. Say you'll come."

"This is the first Christmas Dad and I will have spent together," Rosmerta began.

"Come after dinner, then," Fiona interjected.

"Never mind my cousins, come for us," said Hamish.

"Natalie will worry that her Auntie is lonely if you don't," Fiona added, ruthlessly using her precious child as ammunition.

Rosmerta held up her hands in surrender. "All right, if you really want me to, I'll come for a few hours." She saw the complacent look the two exchanged and warned, "I'm not looking for a partner, though, so don't be telling anyone I am!"

"I promise I won't!" Fiona laughed, hugging her.

Rosmerta had the uneasy feeling her friend might be crossing her fingers.

-

Hours later, she stood before her dresser and looked down at the open drawer, deliberating whether to go through with the plan that made her head whirl and her heart pound, just thinking about it. "I can always change my mind," she whispered.

The sound of her voice, tentative and soft, hardened Rosmerta's resolve. Defying her fears, she snatched up the item Sirius had eyed when he'd nosed through her room and told herself, "Oh no I won't!"

Stepping out onto the hearth of the New and Ignoble House of Black, however, she found it was easier to be bold and confident at home, than it was when Sirius was staring at her. The phrase 'lean and hungry' came to mind. He was dangerous to her self-control.

"You look like Christmas," he said huskily, his smoky eyes lingering on the V of her top, where red lace peeked out from a gap in red silk.

"So do you."

His slow grin weakened her knees and her wits. She didn't know what he found so amusing, but she smiled in response anyway.

He padded forward, eyes gleaming. "I'm wearing black," he said, moving in close to brush his lips across hers.

"It isn't what you wear, it's who you are," she whispered, swaying toward him.

Sirius' lips were firm and hot, melding to hers in a kiss that scorched her senses. Rosmerta dropped the present in her hands in order clutch his shoulders as she melted against him.

His kisses were addictive. It was hard to know when to stop, to ease away from escalating sensuality. Rosmerta kept telling herself 'one more kiss.' She made a sound of protest when Sirius' lips trailed from her mouth to her ear. "My present wasn't fragile, I hope?" he said smilingly.

"No." She turned her head and trapped his lips in one last, deep kiss. Stepping back, she retrieved the wrapped box and held it out. "No shaking, poking, or peeking, though. I want it to be a surprise when you open it tomorrow."

Sirius looked adorable, pretending to pout. "I have to wait?" His expression became sly. "Then you'll have to wait with me, until after midnight, so I can officially open it on Christmas." He lifted the present. "You didn't say I couldn't weigh it. Hmmm…heavier than a jumper, lighter than a Niffler."

"A Niffler!" she exclaimed. "The box is too flat and there are no holes to let the creature breathe. Why the stars would I give you a Niffler?"

Her pulse raced when he tucked the gift under one arm and reached out to toy with a lock of her hair. "I'm obviously attracted to shiny, precious objects, and a Niffler would ensure that I would always be able to find you."

The mixture of teasing and earnestness in his voice was incredibly seductive. Her voice was husky when she asked, "Are you saying I'm treasure to be plundered?"

His smile rivalled any pirate's in roguishness. "One day, love, one day."

July seemed much too far away. She licked her lips and glanced over his shoulder. "Are you going to put the present under the..." Her voice faltered as she gazed at the oddest-looking Christmas tree she had ever seen.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Sirius said proudly, taking her arm and steering her toward the evergreen lit with tiny enchanted candles. "Didn't cost me a knut. The man at the lot was going to chuck it out for leaning a bit and having a bare spot in the back. I couldn't believe it!" He shook his head. "This tree's better than those perfect, boring ones. It's got character."

Rosmerta, wondering if the tree represented his feelings about his pureblood family, fought the urge to hug Sirius until she took his breath away, so she could give it back in a kiss. She smiled instead. "It's beautiful."

"Needs decorations, though," he said. "Want to string popcorn with me?"

Sirius ate more popcorn than he strung. "Mine's for the top of the tree," he said, when she laughingly scolded that it wasn't long enough to hang.

When they stood smiling at each other and the decorations, Rosmerta took a deep breath and said, "I can't spend the night in my pyjamas, but I'd love to lie back and look at the tree now, if you want to."

-

* * *

- 

Sirius almost laughed as he nodded. Hell yes he wanted to! Glimpses of that red lace bra had been driving him crazy. He'd behaved himself, hadn't stared at Rosmerta's cleavage or tried to take their kisses further than she was comfortable with, but it hadn't been easy. He couldn't compartmentalise his feelings. He wanted to know both her mind and body intimately.

It took two tries to cast a comfort charm on the floor. The blood that rushed in his ears when she asked if he wanted to lie down and look at the tree seemed to be heading south with dizzying speed.

After he dimmed the illumination orbs and lay on his back next to Rosmerta, Sirius gazed up at the sparkling tree for several minutes in peaceful silence. It was a beautiful tree. He turned his head and smiled, meeting the gaze of an even more beautiful woman.

"Sirius?" she whispered, in a tone that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in anticipation.

"Yes?" he said quietly, hopefully.

"Would you like a chest snog?"

Rosmerta's eyes were big, blue, and adorably shy. Sirius remembered her reaction to his suggestion of a belly snog and said playfully, "A_ WHAT?" _

Her expression became confident and sexy as she rolled over, bracing her hands on either side of his head. "Belly to belly, chest to chest, mouth to mouth, perfectly aligned," she said, leaning down, golden strands brushed his cheek as she asked, "What do you say?"

Sirius answered with lips and fingers, while a celestial chorus sang in his head.

_Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!_

_-_

* * *

_-_

A/N: Writing doesn't involve perspiration, thankfully, but inspiration is a necessity, and I'm lucky to be able to find it in readers. Thanks this chapter go to **cupcakeswirl**, who agreed Norrington's name being James meant my idea to re-word his remark to Jack Sparrow for another James was providence :D, and **Machiavelli Jr**, who said Sirius would nick the sweets from the gingerbread house, and **Carnivalgirl**, who once suggested a Niffler would make a good Christmas present. :D. I'm also thankful for the inspiring reviews (all unanimously thinking the house would be the sorriest edible structure in the wizarding world, lol) of………...♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **arb princess **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawan **♥ **FNP **♥ **Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** GraceRichie **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Limaree **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥** quirky-but-kewl90 **♥** RahNee **♥ **Shadow-of the- Night35 **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ and ♥ **WriterMerrin **♥


	24. A Black Christmas

Before I wrote this chapter, I started to title it 'A White Christmas,' but the chapter ended up very Sirius, so I decided to go with something more appropriate.

* * *

-

Chapter 24- A Black Christmas

-

"Merry Christmas, Sirius!"

Sirius grunted at his friend's bright greeting and muttered, "Need more sleep. I'll be merry later."

James shook his shoulder. "Mum and Dad are waiting for you to come open your stocking."

Sirius cracked open an eye. "Stocking?"

"Yes, the one Father Christmas left hanging on the mantel, since you weren't in your room to receive it. They won't let me open presents until you do, so hurry up!"

Sirius opened both eyes and blinked. From his position on the floor beside the tree, he saw his present from Rosmerta draped across the opened box beneath the evergreen branches. He didn't want James to see it!

He rolled over and sat up, taking the hand James' extended to rise to his feet. Sirius clapped his mate on the shoulder. "Give me a few minutes to shower and change."

James was staring at him oddly.

Sirius said, "Do I have popcorn in my hair? What?"

"Your face."

"I have popcorn on my face?" Sirius reached up to touch his cheek. It was a bit scratchy, but no popcorn…although the skin did feel rather odd.

"There's a pattern, imprinted," said James.

"What pattern?"

James pointed. "That pattern."

Sirius looked down and groaned. Bloody hell, he'd been so concerned about distracting James from noticing his Christmas present, he'd forgotten what he'd used for a pillow!

"That's a bra."

Sirius kicked the red lace brassiere under the tree. "Nah, it's a pillow that looks like one. Gag gift from my neighbour Mundungus."

James shot him a 'who are you trying to fool' look and demonstrated he had been practising wandless magic. "_Accio Bra_!"

Sirius tried to grab the lacy fabric mid-air, but James was quicker. He held the brassiere by red straps. "You were saying?"

"All right. It's a bra."

"A _big _bra."

Sirius snatched it out of his friend's hands and shook it. "It is not big, it has full cups. There's a difference!"

James' lips twitched. "A big difference?"

"Huge," said Sirius, grinning.

James ran a hand over his hair, making it even more unruly. "I don't know of any girl at school that…curvy…." he said. "Who does that belong to?"

"A friend."

Hazel eyes narrowed. "A _pen _friend?" When Sirius shrugged, James shook his head. "I should have known you couldn't be just friends with a girl who sends you letters every other day!"

It was every day, actually, but if James had missed that fact, Sirius was not about to enlighten him.

James asked, "Who is she?"

"Can't say."

"Why not?"

Sirius exhaled heavily. "It's complicated."

James' jaw dropped. "Is she married?"

"NO!"

"Older?"

"Yes."

A weird look crossed James' face. "It isn't Mrs. Quickly, is it?"

Sirius was experiencing déjà vu. Hadn't he already had this conversation with Remus? He shook his head emphatically. "Gods no. The woman is over thirty and a right slag. How could you even think it?"

James' face turned red.

It was Sirius' turn to feel his jaw drop. "Mrs. Quickly tried to get on with you?"

Nodding jerkily, James said in a low voice, "Last term, in the Broomsticks, she pinched my arse."

"No!" Sirius had to clamp down on the urge to laugh.

"Yeah, Lily saw it, too, and glared at me for weeks afterwards, like I'd asked for it." James began to smile. "Made me hope she was jealous, and that she liked me a little."

"She likes you more than a little," said Sirius.

James' eyebrows rose. "Your _friend _must like you more than a little, too."

Sirius' smile widened. "Yeah." He asked James, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"I don't. If it came out, she'd catch hell from her f-family." Sirius had almost said 'father.' He hurriedly explained, "After I leave Hogwarts, it will be different. I won't be a schoolboy anymore."

James laughed. "You're hardly the average schoolboy. You live on your own, independent from your family."

"I'm dependent on my friends for Christmas cheer," said Sirius, "so I'd best not keep them waiting." He bounded up the stairs to shower and change. When he came back down, he found James trying on the leather jacket Rosmerta had given him for Christmas.

"I changed my mind. Your girlfriend is barmy about you. This is a very expensive jacket."

"It isn't the money, it's the thought."

James snickered. "Are you saying that because you bought her a bottle of cheap perfume?"

"Custom blended perfume," Sirius corrected, "and that empathic _Fragranceur_ wasn't cheap!"

"Empathic?"

His friend looked like he was struggling not to laugh. Sirius grudgingly smiled. "The bloke sensed what combination of ingredients would be best to capture her essence."

James coughed suspiciously. "And what is her _essence?"_

"Warm, seductive, yet subtle," said Sirius.

"That rules out Mrs. Quickly," James said dryly.

Sirius laughed and held out his hand for the jacket.

-

The Potter home--lavishly decorated top to bottom with a cheerful fire in the grate and Christmas carols emanating from a discretely placed Orpheus Orb--didn't embody holiday spirit half so well as Mr. and Mrs. Potter themselves. Sirius watched their expressions out of the corner of his eye while James opened his gifts and envied loving parents far more than his mate's new racing broom.

Orion and Walburga had never given each other congratulatory winks and smiles when the presents they chose brought grins to their children's faces. They had never winked and smiled at one another to Sirius' knowledge and their gifts seldom brought more than polite smiles to Sirius and Reggie's faces.

Walburga's choice of presents was 'practical' and 'improving', not meant for frivolous entertainment, but Sirius remembered the one Christmas his father had given him a different kind of gift. Whether driven by pity after seeing Sirius' stocking burn in the fireplace, or a random fatherly impulse, Orion had seen his oldest son pass the library, bouncing a ball, and called him inside.

-

"_Sirius, my boy, come in," Orion invited, in the expansive tone acquired after an extended period of drinking._

"_Yes Father?" said Sirius, walking into the room his father spent most of his time. While dark and dreary as the rest of the home, the various coloured bindings on the books gave the library a more cheerful air._

"_Close the door. I have a Christmas present for you," Orion said in a conspiratorial tone. "Your mother would not approve, but we do not always act according to her wishes, do we?"_

_This was news to Sirius. He had thought he alone rebelled against Walburga's iron control. Smiling at his father, he walked to the side of the massive desk. "No Sir."_

"_I did not wrap it. Men do not need such frippery, do they boy?" asked Orion, handing his son a box. _

_Sirius grinned and shook his head, feeling his heart race in excitement. His father had bought him a present! He looked down and read, "Make your own Golem." _

"_Found it at Borgin & Burkes. Some wizard in Prague died before he could mass-produce his invention, so value it accordingly. Know what a Golem is, my boy?"_

"_No Sir," answered Sirius._

"_It is a small likeness of a man, made in clay from the banks of the Vltava river, animated by incantations, obeying its creator's commands, no wand necessary." His father chuckled. "Or so it says on the back of the box."_

"_Like a house-elf?"_

"_Better--a Golem does not talk." Orion laughed and patted his son on the shoulder. "Run to your room and keep that hidden." He lifted a tumbler of whisky from the desk, saying, "This is our secret."_

"_Yes, sir, Thank you very much!" Sirius said, before dashing out of the library and up to his room. He removed the lid to the box and started reading the instructions. _

_The clay was easy to mould. Sirius gave the little man round ears and a pointed cap. When he had finished using a quill to draw a simple face, the boy looked at the instructions and traced the characters spelling 'Emet', or truth, in Hebrew on the little forehead. If for any reason he had to deactivate the golem, all he would need to do was rub out the 'E', changing the word to mean 'death.'_

_At dinner, no one asked Sirius how he had spent his day. Afterwards, his brother said, "If you like, I'll let you play with my building blocks tomorrow, after I've finished building a house to show Mother."_

"_No thanks," said Sirius. _

"_Why not?" asked Reggie. "What do you have that's better to play with?"_

"_My imagination."_

_Back inside his room, Sirius locked the door and reached under his bed. He slid the box out and carefully placed the golem on the floor. Chanting the final incantation, he paused to cross his fingers and said, "Golem, fetch my ball off the dresser."_

_Immediately, the golem jumped to his feet and ran to the dresser, using the drawer pulls to climb. Sirius laughed in glee. This was the best Christmas ever!_

_-_

"This is the best Christmas ever," James said to his parents, bringing Sirius out of his remembrances of Christmas past.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter chuckled indulgently at hearing the family joke. James had said that every year since age four.

Sirius looked at the clothing, books, quills and inkpots he had pulled out of his magical stocking along with an array of toffees, chocolates, fruit jellies and other sweets. "I agree with James. Thank you very much."

Mrs. Potter beamed. "I am delighted you boys feel that way, but I think you missed one gift, Sirius, my dear."

He grinned and stuck his hand into the stocking, pulling out an Orpheus Orb.

"_The Singing Sorceress, Live from Liverpool," _Dorea informed gaily. "When James said you enjoyed rough-and-tumble music, I knew this was the orb to get." Her eyes twinkled. "Celestina Warbeck fans had a bit of broom smash over the River Mersey after the concert."

Blokes were probably fighting to be the first to escape, Sirius thought, hiding his dismay. Warbeck was as far from punk rock as you could get. He appreciated the thought, though, and said, "It's ace. Thank you."

James snickered. "Yeah, ace, right."

Sirius sent his friend a warning look.

James grinned. "Bet you can't wait to give Celestina a spin."

"I certainly would not mind hearing some modern music," Mrs. Potter said brightly. "One of the song titles was quite intriguing. _A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love."_

"Sounds like the woman drank too much mulled wine," Mr. Potter muttered.

James said, "I'm sure Sirius wants to enjoy it later, in private."

The emphasis placed on 'later' brought out the Black in Sirius. He said, "Oh no, I'd love to hear the song _right now."_ He smiled angelically at Mrs. Potter. "Would you do me the honour of giving the orb a spin?"

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta ladled gravy onto the chestnut stuffing on her father's plate, singing along with the Christmas carols playing on the wireless radio. She had kept the dinner small--turkey, stuffing, roast potatoes, and the awful Brussels sprouts Diarmid loved--but she was glad to have the chance to make it. Last year, he hadn't even answered her Christmas card.

Instead of conjuring Christmas dinner the previous December, she had spent it serving others in a Knockturn Alley soup kitchen. Jonathan 'had' to spend the day with his family. The way he always had.

"Ros! I opened a Burgundy Chardonnay!"

Rosmerta smiled--once a barman, always a barman. She called back, "Sounds brilliant, Da! I'll be right up!"

She brought up the tray and set the food on the table she had placed beside her father's bed. The tablecloth pooled onto the floor, and only a small candle fit into the centre, but it was festive.

"Smells delicious."

"There are plenty of sprouts if you want seconds…or thirds…or fourths…." Rosmerta said laughingly.

Her father pointed his fork sternly. "You be eatin' yer veg, like a good girl."

"Yes, Da."

Her father lifted his wineglass. "Picked a '76…bonny year tha' was."

"What about '75?" Rosmerta asked.

"Piss poor."

She lifted her glass and touched it to his. "To your good taste."

Halfway through the meal, Diarmid brought a silver Christmas cracker out from beneath his pillow.

"Where did that come from?" asked Rosmerta with a smile.

"Iris."

Her father looked embarrassed. She said, "Want to pull it?"

"If yeh want to."

She reached for an end. The cracker split, making a huge BOOM! Blue smoke spewed into the room, along with two hats and a small, wrapped gift.

Diarmid picked up a distinctive black, boat shaped cap with a bobble on top and ribbons hanging down behind and placed it on his head.

"Glengarry looks goods on you," said Rosmerta, placing the other hat on her head.

Her father laughed. "What are yeh s'pposed ter be. A pirate?"

Rosmerta adjusted her brown tricorn hat. "Avast, landlubber!" While Diarmid shook his head over her cheesy accent, she tried and failed not to imagine telling Sirius, "C'mon, lad, shiver me timbers!"

Hastily drinking a cooling sip of wine, she said, "Aren't you going to open your gift?"

Her father shook his head and stuffed the small present under his pillow. "Later." He sniffed the air and said, "Yeh smell nice."

"Like turkey and mince pie?"

"No, yer perfume." Diarmid smiled briefly. "Yer mother always liked perfume."

"Did she?" asked Rosmerta, as if she didn't remember watching her mother choose perfume from an array of crystal bottles on her dressing table. The scent Sirius had chosen was lighter than the strong, flowery scents her mother had preferred. She remembered opening the gift and listening to Sirius tell her how he'd picked it out, listing the ingredients blended especially for her.

-

"_It's a vanilla base infused with jasmine, botanical musk, and ginger," he said. "Try it." _

_She handed him the bottle. "Do you want to apply it to my pulse points?"_

"_I know wrists and ears and…." his eyes fell to her cleavage displayed by the red lace bra she continued to wear without a shirt, even after their 'chest snog.' "Is there anywhere else?"_

_They were sitting facing each other. Rosmerta nodded. "The fronts of my ankles."_

_He undid the stopper and touched the glass to her skin. "Where else?"_

"_Behind my knees."_

_Sirius applied the faintest touch of perfume. "Where next?"_

_What had seemed a sexy and mostly innocent game now made Rosmerta blush. She wasn't about to expose her pubic bones! Huskily, she said, "Uh…my waist."_

_Grey eyes danced mischievously, but he didn't say anything, merely drew the stopper along the waistband of her skirt. _

_The insides of her elbows and wrists, along with the sides of her throat and temples were anointed with traces of perfume. By the time he'd slid the glass stopper across her breastbone, they were both flushed and breathing faster. _

_Sirius held the stopper above her skin. With a small smile, he said, "There probably isn't much scent left on it anyway, if you don't want me to…."_

_Rosmerta's hands lifted to undo the front clasp on her bra. "I want you to."_

"Are yeh thinkin' aboot yer mam?"

Rosmerta startled guiltily. "Sorry?"

Diarmid asked, "Did yeh ever see her, durin' all that time in London?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She said, 'I see you left your father too.'" Rosmerta looked straight into her father's eyes and added, "I told her I might have left Hogsmeade, but I didn't leave you…I never left you."

Diarmid looked away. "I know it, lass. I've always known it." After a moment, he glanced back, asking gruffly, "Did yeh make a Christmas pudding?"

Rosmerta nodded and said with a determined smile, "Before I light it, do you want to pick out the brandy?"

-

* * *

- 

After Christmas dinner and a round of parlour games, Mr. and Mrs. Potter looked ready for a Christmas nap. Sirius glanced across the chessboard at James. "Do you know what tonight is?"

Focussed on his next move, James said, "No, what?"

"A full moon."

"On Christmas Day? Doesn't seem fair," said James, as his white queen knocked Sirius' pawn off the board with her sceptre and swept forward to stand directly in front of the black king. He smiled happily at his opponent. "Checkmate."

Sirius did some concentrating of his own, grinning when his king picked the white queen up by the waist and chucked her off the board.

"You still lost the match," said James.

"Yes, but I feel so much better about it now," Sirius replied.

James laughed.

Sirius' eyes flickered to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. They were nodding off on the sofa. He said quietly, "We should be with Moony."

"Too risky," said James. "He'll manage, he always does, and besides…I'm going over to Lily's tonight."

"To do what?"

James shrugged. "Watch telly."

Sirius stared incredulously. "You? The same bloke who did a report titled 'the goggle box: opiate of the masses' for Muggle Studies?"

"Yeah."

A bark of laughter escaped before Sirius said, "Good for you, mate."

James smiled. "How did you remember that report?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I'm the one who gave you the idea!"

-

Alone in the home that, without the tree, would look almost as dreary as the one he'd grown up in, Sirius wandered into the kitchen to find a bottle of firewhisky. Not bothering to look for a tumbler, he carried the bottle into the lounge. Sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, he stared at the candles and wondered what Rosmerta was doing.

Probably reading the letter I sent earlier, thinking I'm having a merry, merry Christmas with the Potters, he thought, taking a swig from the bottle.

Sirius could have stayed with the Potters. He would have, if it hadn't been for a damned, stupid gingerbread man.

Cook, out of some need to stuff them like turkeys, had sent up a tray of holiday biscuits to the lounge. Although he wasn't hungry, Sirius took one, just to be polite. He had looked down at the gingerbread figure and been reminded of a man made of clay--Golem. Maybe it was the colour…or the 'smile'.

Whatever the reason, all at once, Sirius felt memories rise and his mood plummet. Unwilling to cast a pall on the Potters' holiday, he made his excuses and went home to drink, and remember.

-

_Golem was the best toy he had ever had. Sirius played with him whenever he was allowed time from his studies. There were so many things Golem could do…he seemed real, and was far more fun to play with than Reggie. _

_After a few weeks, Sirius began thinking of the little creature as a friend. 'Golem, mate, let's go play pirates' he'd say, or 'Hey, mate, let's play ball.' He didn't mind being confined to his room, and if he was sent to bed without supper, Golem would fetch him something from the kitchen. _

_On a cold March day that looked deceptively sunny and mild from the nursery-turned-classroom window, Walburga marched into the room and threw the torn pieces of a box onto Sirius' desk. _

"_Kreacher found this in the neighbour's rubbish bin."_

_Sirius screwed his face up. "He digs in rubbish bins? What for? Food?"_

_His mother slapped her hand flat down on the table. "He followed YOU, you insolent, conniving, boy!" _

_Sirius said, "What would I be doing in the neighbour's rubbish bin?"_

_Walburga laughed harshly. "Hiding your misdeeds, but no longer…I spoke with your father." She drew her wand from a pocket and cried, "Accio Golem!" _

_A small figure floated into the classroom. "Don't touch him, he's mine! Father gave him to me for Christmas!" Sirius yelled, jumping to his feet. "Come to me, Golem!"_

_His mother's face twisted with loathing, watching the figure drop to the floor and run to Sirius. "Were you planning to use your evil minion to kill us in our beds, you unnatural child?"_

_Holding Golem, Sirius cried, "I didn't want to hurt anyone, I just wanted someone to play with!" Almost in tears, he said, "Golem's not evil. He's my friend!"_

"_Destroy it," Walburga commanded._

"_Mother," said Regulus, rising from his desk. "If Sirius broke off the Golem's arms and legs so it couldn't harm anyone, couldn't he keep it? I mean…he's had it since Christmas…and…and never…." _

"_Very well," Walburga said after a tense minute's silence. "Render the creature harmless and you may keep it."_

_Sirius looked from Reggie to his mother. They honestly thought they were doing him a favour! He stared down at Golem, thinking about all the good times they had shared. With tears rolling down his face, Sirius used his thumb to rub out the 'E' on the tiny forehead, changing the word from truth to death. Instantly, the clay crumbled into dust. _

_-_

The flames of the candles were a shimmery blur in the darkness. Lips twisting in a bittersweet smile, Sirius lifted the bottle of firewhisky in a silent toast and took another drink.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: That, without doubt, is the least cheery ending to a Christmas chapter I have ever written. I think all readers should mentally give Sirius a hug! This week, I blame..erm…_credit…_readers once again for inspiration. Everyone who wanted me to put 'I've got a jar of dirt' into the fic or asked if I'd celebrated 'Talk like a Pirate Day' (and you know who you are, me hearties) made me regret that I couldn't, and hadn't. That somehow sparked inspiration (don't ask how, lol, it's a mystery) for including a golem, made from clay, (info found on Wikipedia :D) and using the 3rd most effective female pirate pick up line. (according to the talklikeapirate dot com website- feel free to sail over if you fancy reading the rest!)

The readers who made my week merry and bright with their reviews were…♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **An Aspiring Author **♥ **arb princess **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥ **comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Evil-Angel-911 **♥ **FNP **♥ **Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** GraceRichie **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Lilia Black **♥ **Limaree **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥** potteronpotluvhim **♥ **Shadow-of the- Night35 **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ and ♥ **Ylime166 **♥

* * *


	25. The Unexpected Visitors

Chapter 25- The Unexpected Visitors

-

A sound penetrated Sirius' drunken stupor. Someone was calling his name. He tried to open his eyes, but they were too heavy. With a grunt, he let his head loll back against the wall, hoping whoever it was would leave him in peace.

"Sirius!"

He knew that voice. His lips curved. "'Ello, love."

"The owl returned this morning with my note still attached. I was so worried. I had to make sure you were all right!"

Sirius cracked open his eyes to look at the woman on her knees beside him. "Feelin' no pain, darlin'."

Rosmerta's pretty, pink lips were trembling. "What made you get drunk on Christmas?"

He snickered. "Happiest time of the year, innit?" When she continued to stare at him, Sirius mumbled. "Mem'ries."

Her face softened as she pulled him into a hug. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you."

"S'alright," he said, enjoying the sympathy in her voice almost as much as using her bosom for a pillow.

Sirius would have drifted happily back to sleep if his head had not started to pound. One minute, he was floating on a blissful sea of affection. The next, a wave crashed over him, slamming his noggin against the ocean floor. He groaned.

Rosmerta pressed him closer, but he was in no condition to appreciate it. "Do you have any potions for a hangover?" she whispered.

He almost smiled. Through some fluke of genetics, noise sensitivity had never been one of his problems on mornings after. She was sweet to think of it, though. He sniffed. She smelled good too, wearing the perfume he'd given her.

"In the lav," he mumbled.

She gently propped him back against the wall. "I'll hurry," she said softly, kissing his cheek.

His lips had pursed for a kiss. They turned down sulkily while he called after her, "Bring a couple of brushing/flossing mints too!"

While he waited, Sirius rubbed a hand over his stubbly face and grimaced at the dry, nasty taste in his mouth. He hoped two mints would be enough to counter the something-crawled-in-his-mouth-and-died state of his breath. No wonder she hadn't kissed him. Lethargically, he lifted an arm and took a whiff. Merlin, how had she stood him near her? Alcohol was sweating out of his pores. It was bloody disgusting.

"Here you go, love," said Rosmerta, returning with the potions. "I recognise 'Morning After', but what's this one? **Irn-Bru?**"

Sirius chuckled and took the glass bottle filled with a bright orange liquid. "Made in Scotland from girders," he said, quoting an old ad. "It's a Muggle fizzy drink. Caffeine makes the other potion more effective, an' the drink replaces fluids and sugars."

She watched him drink the Irn-Bru and potion down, smiling a little as she said, "I should tell Mr. Harris in the village to stock it in the Apothecary."

He smiled around the mints he was chewing. His thoughts felt clearer and stars his mouth felt better! Sirius leaned forward to thank Rosmerta with a kiss and began to shiver. He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so cold."

"Of course you are. Hangovers give a kind of hypothermia. We need to get you warmed up."

"I need a shower," said Sirius.

Rosmerta helped him to his feet. "You don't switch from hot to cold, do you? It doesn't work, and does more harm than good."

"No, no, just warm water," he said, leaning against her. The arm around his waist tightened, making Sirius feel better, despite the chills wracking his body. She really cared about him.

The only lavatory with a shower was upstairs. "C'mon, love, you can make it," said Rosmerta.

Sirius gave a huff of amusement. "Feel free to levitate my body up the stairs if I stumble."

"Sorry," she said, "I left my wand at home and can only do one spell without it, so don't stumble, because you'd take me with you." In response to his questioning look, she smiled. "Whatever happens, I'm not letting you go."

He braced a hand on the wall as they started to climb. "I'm only good at one wandless spell too.What's yours?"

"_Stupefy."_

Black eyebrows rose. "Nice one."

"What's yours?"

Reluctantly, he admitted, "_Rictusempra."_

She laughed.

Sirius said dryly, "See how brilliant I am? I make you laugh without trying."

Blonde curls brushed his face when she turned to him, nodding. "It _is _brilliant," said Rosmerta. "When you make someone laugh uncontrollably, you walk away and no one is the wiser. Stupefy them and everybody knows they aren't causing it themselves!"

He had never thought of it that way. "Yeah, but I still need to work on wandless magic more."

"Maybe we could practice together."

"I like that idea."

Rosmerta sent him a look of playful warning. "No snogging until after study sessions."

He gave a theatrical sigh. "All right, if you insist."

Her giggle made him grin.

At the top of the stairs, he said, "First door's my room, don't mind the mess, I'm a right slob, shower's in the lav off the bedroom."

Rosmerta's only reaction to the clothing hanging out of his trunk and strewn across the floor was, "If you need a wardrobe, I've got one in the attic I could shrink and bring over."

"Think that would help?" he said jokingly.

"Can't hurt," she said, escorting him into the lavatory.

Sirius propped a shoulder against the wall, embarrassed to be so weak and sluggish.

He closed his eyes, wishing Rosmerta were unbuttoning his shirt for a much different reason.

"You…uh…undo the trousers, I'll turn on the shower," she said, stepping away. "How does the water charm engage?"

He opened his eyes at the exact moment she stepped into the shower area, looked up- and became drenched in the face with water. "It's automatic," he said apologetically.

Rosmerta's dripping hair plastered her blouse to her body. "So I discovered." The corners of her lips turned up. "Water's nice and warm."

Sirius lifted the shirt he'd taken off. "I'd give you the shirt off my back, but it reeks. You'll find a clean one in the trunk."

"Okay."

His lips quirked when he said, "I would tell you I'll only be a minute, but I smell so bad, it's going to take several."

She smiled. "You're worth waiting for."

-

* * *

- 

After she shut the bathroom door, Rosmerta realised she didn't have a towel. No way was she going back in for one. Sirius' lavatory was the tiled kind with a central drain and no shower curtain.

Even the idea of seeing him in the shower made her heart pound and her face feel hot. If she actually saw him- no, those thoughts led to trouble.

She peeled off her blouse and laid it over the back of a chair. Walking over to the trunk, she spied a towel on the floor. Rosmerta picked it up and sniffed warily. _Mmm…smells like clean Sirius, not sweaty._ She used it to rub her hair and torso dry.

Her bra was a little damp, but she kept it on. Christmas Eve, she'd taken it off, and found out how quickly looking became touching and kissing became a beginning instead of the end in itself. If she hadn't pushed away, grabbed her top, and dashed for the Floo….

Rosmerta shook her head. Her thoughts were veering into dangerous territory again. She smiled, imagining stuffing them in a box marked Open in July.

In the other room, Sirius was singing 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs.' His voice had a husky quality she found sexy. _Pleasant, _she rapidly amended. So pleasant, she turned to his trunk and distracted herself from Sirius' _pleasantness _by searching for a shirt.

She had bent over the trunk and lifted a jumper to reach a black tee when the bedroom door opened.

"_Sirius, did you forget we were supposed to visit Moon…y…." _James Potter trailed off, his eyes huge behind his glasses at the sight of her standing in Sirius' room.

Rosmerta saw the boy's jaw drop as his eyes fell to her chest. She hastily clutched the black tee to cover her exposed skin. They stared at each other in awkward silence.

She smiled hesitantly. "Hello James."

James swallowed hard. "You…you're…you're Madam Rosmerta."

She grimaced. "Please. I'm only twenty-one. Call me…."

"Rosmerta, love, did you find a tee?" Sirius asked. He exited the lavatory with one towel wrapped around his waist while he dried his hair with another.

"Yes, but she hasn't had a chance to put it on," said James.

Sirius froze. Raking his hair back, he stared at his friend. "What are you doing here, mate?"

"I'll go put my shirt on in the lav," said Rosmerta, scurrying across the room.

Through the door, she heard James ask, "Remember Moony? Our _friend _we promised to visit on Boxing Day? I saw the whisky bottle downstairs. Did getting plastered with your _pen friend_ make you forget?"

"I got pissed on my own, _mate. _Rosmerta just came over to check on me and helped my sorry arse up the stairs."

"Oh…my apologies…." After a moment's silence, James said, "She is your mysterious pen friend, though, isn't she?"

"Yeah."

She heard the frown in James' voice. "Why were you drinking?"

Rosmerta could almost 'see' Sirius' shrug. "You know me and holidays. Black moods lead to a piss up. It's an _ancient _and _noble_ family tradition!"

James asked the question Rosmerta was thinking. "You've broken every other tradition, mate, why not this one?"

"Maybe I will. I felt pretty duff, having to be lugged up the stairs."

Rosmerta opened the door. "You're not useless, and I'll be downstairs, fixing you something to eat."

Sirius had the sweetest smile. "Thanks, but I think my cupboard's bare."

"I brought some groceries, just in case," she replied. Rosmerta looked at James. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes," he said. "I'll take a cup of coffee, though, if it isn't too much trouble."

"No trouble," she said with a smile, making to leave.

"I'll help," James said, following her.

-

Downstairs, Rosmerta picked up the basket she'd set down beside the fireplace in her rush to check on Sirius and made her way to the kitchen. The tiled counters and floor were clean, but the cookware appeared black and grimy as the old-fashioned stove.

Grateful she'd packed everything she might need in the magicked basket, she took out all the items required to make scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee.

"How can I help?" asked James.

"Can you cast a spell to heat the stove?"

"Sure."

He waved his wand and lit a burner. She smiled her thanks. "Have you ever conjured toast before?"

"No, but if you tell me the spell, I will."

Rosmerta put on the coffee and instructed James while she scrambled half a dozen eggs.

When Sirius entered a few minutes later, dressed in a black jumper and trousers, Rosmerta handed him a plate and told James, "Coffee's ready."

"Thank you," said James, adding milk and sugar to his cup.

Rosmerta took a sip of her coffee. "You're welcome."

"How proper and formal you two sound!" Sirius said after devouring the eggs and a piece of toast. He was leaning a hip against the counter next to her. "Can't you relax and be friends?"

"I think James is being incredibly friendly, considering the circumstances," Rosmerta said. "Finding me in your room like that had to have been a shock."

James' lips twitched as he looked at Sirius. "A _big _shock."

Sirius chuckled. "Huge?"

James smiled. "It took awhile to get my mind round the idea." Hazel eyes shifted to Rosmerta. "Do any of your friends know?"

She said, "An employee knows I'm seeing someone, but he doesn't know who, and everyone else thinks I've gone off dating." When James nodded thoughtfully, she added, "I'm not ashamed of my feelings for Sirius…it's just…the way things are in the village and at Hogwarts…if our relationship became known…." Rosmerta took a breath and said honestly, "I'm still living down the gossip over what happened almost five years ago. People would think the worst."

Sirius set his plate down and wrapped his arms around her. "Its okay, James won't tell." He grinned at his friend. "Might be hard to keep it from Lily, but it's only until we leave school."

James was watching them with an odd look on his face. "You've been seeing each other for months, right?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, tightening his arms around her.

"Then…you shot him down in the bar that time…so no one would suspect?"

Rosmerta laughed a little. "No. I was still trying to discourage him, then." She tilted her head to look up at Sirius. "Didn't take you long to change my mind, did it?"

Sirius bent his head and kissed her.

James cleared his throat. "Ahem, don't mean to hurry anyone…however, we did make plans to meet Peter and visit Remus."

"I'll clear up, you go on," Rosmerta said smilingly.

Sirius kissed her goodbye in a way that made her blush and James say, "All right, goodbye, Rosmerta. Sirius, I'll meet you back at my house _shortly."_

When the sound of footsteps faded, Rosmerta pulled back and said, "I'm so relieved James isn't against us, that he didn't bring up my age or reputation…."

"Or _my _reputation," Sirius interjected. "Listen. I trust James with my secrets- my life, if it comes to that- and I'm honoured he feels the same way about me. Remus and Peter are mates, and damned good ones, but James is my best mate, so don't you worry about a thing," His expression became sly, "except how to get your bra back."

She laughed. "I don't want my bra back. I want you to keep it, and think of me."

Grey eyes turned smoky. "I don't need anything to help me do that. I'll keep it under my mattress, though, like you do those romance novels."

Rosmerta kissed him firmly and stepped away. "Good. No go!"

He winked and sauntered out of the room. She sighed, watching him every step of the way.

-

* * *

- 

Sirius stepped out of the Potters' fireplace, thinking what a difference a few hours made. He saw James pacing back and forth and said, "Worried I'd make us late?"

Relief washed over his mate's face. "You _were _polishing her tonsils pretty thoroughly."

Sirius laughed and set his present for Remus on a chair. "No I wasn't. We were playing Tonsil Quidditch."

After a shout of laughter, James' expression turned considering. "D'you think Lily would want to play?"

"I should hope not, since she's your girlfriend, Prongs, and I'm taken…." Pausing to give a bark of amusement, Sirius said, "Of course she would! The tonsil thing- that's only an expression- it isn't _literal."_

James lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm quite aware of that. I may have been born in the dark, but it wasn't last night, I assure you."

Sirius walked over and clapped his mate on the shoulder. "I never doubted it." He stopped joking and said quietly, "I told Rosmerta I'd trust you with my secrets and my life. I hope you know you can trust me the same way."

"I do," said James. He smiled. "You and Rosmerta…I'll never be able to order a butterbeer again without remembering…ahem…you two in the kitchen."

A black eyebrow lifted. Sirius would bet his friend would remember seeing exactly how _curvy_ Rosmerta was, but since he'd seen the picture of Lily in a bikini, he figured they were square, and he'd change the subject. "Where's Wormtail?"

_Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!_

"Speak of the devil." James grinned.

Peter lumbered into the room, his round face wreathed in a smile. "Happy Christmas-Boxing Day- Holidays!"

"Got them all covered, don't you mate?" Sirius said laughingly, clapping Peter on the arm while shaking his hand. Following James' greeting, he said, "Looks like you kept dear old Granny from nicking your sweets this year."

"Yes, I did, thanks to…" Peter broke off, slanting a nervous glance at James before smiling at Sirius. "Yes, _thank you."_

Sirius returned his friend's smile, wondering how many Pettigrews suffered from _Musophobia, _fear of rats, this holiday. He asked, "How did your Grandmother like the Cockroach Clusters you gave her?"

Peter made a face. "She ate them and asked me to send her more."

James snickered. Soon all three of them were laughing.

"Here's the hamper Cook prepared," Mrs. Potter said, bustling into the room. She handed the enormous container to James. "I kept it simple, like you asked, dear. Just a ham, several rolls, a few tarts and cakes, some tropical fruit and couple bottles of wine."

"Thanks, Mum," said James, kissing her on the cheek.

She smiled happily. "Do give Remus and his mother our best and…oh!" she said, reaching into a pocket to bring out a brochure. She opened the lid and stuffed it in. "This too."

"What is it?" asked Sirius.

Mrs. Potter beamed. "S.P.A.M. literature. It says 'any way you slice it, prejudice against Muggles is wrong!'"

"Brilliant," Sirius said, waiting his turn to Floo.

Dorea smiled conspiratorially. "Next, we're making buttons! I'll send James a box to pass out at school."

Sirius lied straight-faced, "We're not allowed. School rules." He felt guilty, seeing her face fall, and said, "You could send Dumbledore a letter with your literature. Maybe he'd like to join."

Mrs. Potter instantly cheered. "I'll do it today!"

-

The fireplace he exited in the Lupin household was plain and poor compared to the one he'd grown up with, but the mantel displayed smiling, happy photographs that were conspicuously absent on the Black family mantel.

Remus' mother, Lois, was laughing and thanking James for the hamper. "If this is her idea of simplicity, what must your Christmas Dinner have been like?"

"Have you ever read Dickens?" James said dryly.

Tucking grey-flecked brown hair back into the simple knot she had arranged it in, Mrs. Lupin smiled. "I even translated a few passages to Latin for my classes to read before holiday." She noticed the boys looking toward the stairs and said, "Go on up, he's expecting you."

The townhome was small and narrow, with two storeys and a basement that contained a werewolf on holidays during full moons. Sirius followed his mates up worn, carpeted stairs to Remus' room.

They found Moony propped up in bed, reading a book. He looked tired and pale, but his eyes and smile were bright. After the four exchanged greetings and stories of how each had spent Christmas, Sirius said, "What're you reading, mate?"

"_The Four Feathers,"_ Remus answered.

"What's it about?" asked James.

Sirius picked up the book and looked at the jacket depicting a man in military regalia.

"A tale of cowardice, heroism, duty, and redemption," said Remus.

Sirius tossed it back down. "Sounds depressing."

James handed Remus a festive package and sat in the chair beside the bed. "Maybe this will cheer you up."

"I thought we weren't exchanging Christmas gifts," Remus said, even as his fingers began to unwrap the present.

Peter sat on the far end of the mattress. "It's Boxing Day, not Christmas."

Remus chuckled and read the title of the book he removed from bright paper. "_Lingua Latina Occasionibus Omnibus_…Latin for all occasions…Thank you, James."

"I think it's got ancient Roman pick up lines in there," James said with a grin.

"I can't imagine any girl ever wanting to hear them," Remus said, "but they should be good for a laugh."

Sirius, slouched against the wall, said, "If you ever come across a girl who thinks Latin is sexy, she's the one for you, mate."

Peter's forehead creased. "Hey Moony," he said. "Does Dorcas like Latin?"

Remus shook his head. "She prefers French."

"Oh," muttered Peter. He picked up a packet wrapped in newsprint. "Here, thought you could use a card game or three."

Remus smiled. "If you three are hanging round, I'll need them." He ripped open the paper. "Happy Wizarding Families, Witch Whot and Exploding Snap! I don't have any of these. Thank you, Peter."

Peter ducked his head, looking pleased. "Glad you like them."

Sirius picked up the box he'd placed on a bookcase and handed it to his friend. "I didn't wrap it. It's only chocolate bars, to help you…recover…."

Remus opened the lid. "They're Belgian, and seventy per cent cacao. It isn't _any _old chocolate, and they'll help more than what Mum can usually afford. My thanks."

Peter craned his neck, trying to see into the box. "How many bars are in there?"

"None for you." Sirius sent Peter a warning look. "If you're hungry, let's go raid the hamper." He glanced back at Remus. "Feel up to coming downstairs? We brought ham, rolls, fruit and tarts if you're hungry."

Remus smiled. "I am, actually, and looking forward to trouncing you all in cards."

"I always win Exploding Snap," said James. "So you'll have to settle for a victory in some other game."

Sirius picked up Happy Wizarding Families. "Isn't this an oxymoron?"

Peter nodded while Remus shook his head.

"Not always," James protested.

Sirius thought of Mr. and Mrs. Potter, and Mrs. Lupin. Slowly, he smiled. "You're right," he said, "but not about Exploding Snap. _I'm_ the one who's going to win."

Remus threw back the covers and reached for a robe. "Perhaps I'll win."

"My mum says anything can happen at Christmas," said Peter.

Sirius met James' eyes and immediately looked away. If he didn't, he would burst out laughing. Opening the bedroom door, he said, "Very true, Wormtail, very, very true."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Was this chap a surprise to anyone? Duff isn't the brand of beer Homer Simpson drinks for no reason, lol. Besides the Yank definition of arse, it means useless, junk, doesn't do the job. I've heard some Brits use the term to describe the PM. (pick a Prime Minister, any Prime Minister, heh) **Irn-Bru **holds its own with Coca-Cola in Scotland, and reading caffeine increased the effectiveness of analgesics somehow inspired me to use it in the chap. Anyone ever had one? Is it as sugary as it looks in the bottles? Henry Beard wrote _Latin for all Occasions. _I took literary license in saying there's another, wizarding version of the book, and the card games, too. :D Also, I'll admit to watching the Heath Ledger version of _The Four Feathers _instead of reading the A.E.W. Mason novel, but I think the summary of the book a good match for our four Marauders. The readers whose reviews last chapter made me smile, and then think...hmmm...they all want to comfort Sirius (a couple even wanted to share the firewhisky!)...what if Rosmerta found him the next morning? were……♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **An Aspiring Author **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥ **comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥** Dolphindreamer **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **FNP **♥ **Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** GraceRichie **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Lilia Black **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥ **Newbie GK **♥** p3rfeCtlyKluMzie **♥ **Shadow-of the- Night35 **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥ and ♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥


	26. New Year's Resolutions

Chapter 26- New Year's Resolutions

-

On New Year's Eve, Sirius felt only contentment that he would be busy all that day and into the next. Growing up, he spent so much time in solitary confinement, he had once yelled at his mother, 'Why don't you send me to Azkaban and have done with it?'

He would never forget her response.

_If you do not learn to mind me, Sirius, that is exactly where you will end up!_

The mere thought of Walburga caused his hand to twitch. Sirius nicked himself shaving and cursed as he lowered the straight razor to pick up his wand to perform a healing spell. He looked at his face in the mirror and said, "You'll be snogging Rosmerta at the stroke of midnight, you lucky dog. Stop feeling sorry for yourself!"

His reflection grinned, and then pointed to a spot on his jaw. Sirius lifted the razor to finish shaving.

After he pulled on some clothes and ran a comb through his hair, Sirius went downstairs. He didn't bother checking to see if there was food in the kitchen. Cookery was not his forte, so he never kept anything on hand. It was much easier to go out.

Today, he was having breakfast with the Pettigrews. Peter's folks were ironically mousy, plump and placid, with none of the nervous energy of their son. Mr. Pettigrew was a records keeper at the Ministry while Mrs. Pettigrew spent long hours volunteering at St. Mungo's—to get a break from her Mother-in-law, Sirius expected. Their semi-detached home was in a respectable area of London Peter claimed dead boring. Sirius found it pleasant enough.

When he stepped out of the fireplace into the Pettigrew's lounge, Sirius saw his friend pop out of a chair as if he was on springs.

"Good morning, Sirius!"

"Hello Peter. Something smells good. Has your dear mum been up cooking?"

His friend looked down at scuffed trainers. "No, she…she's having a lie in…she isn't feeling well."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Dunno. She doesn't want to do anything but sleep."

"Did you check for tsetse flies?"

"First thing," said Peter. "There hasn't been one in the house since that accident with Gran."

"That's good." Sirius waited a moment, and then asked, "Is your father cooking breakfast?"

"No. He already left."

"Are _you _cooking breakfast?"

Peter's expression was that of a cornered rat. "Uh, no."

"Who is then?"

"Gran."

Sirius felt his stomach lurch. The woman put eyes of newts in scrambled eggs and frog legs into bubble and squeak. Who knew what culinary horror she had concocted today? "Why don't we go to James' for breakfast?"

Peter nodded so vehemently, his double chin quivered like a turkey wattle. Sirius made an early resolution—no more second breakfasts for Wormtail.

In the kitchen, an old hag hummed tunelessly while removing a tin of muffins from the oven. "Conjured to perfection!" she cackled. Dark eyes gleamed when the scraggly haired witch caught sight of them. "Don't be shy, boys. Take one!"

Whatever the taste of the muffins, they smelled like chocolate chip. Sirius' empty stomach gurgled in response. In growing dread, he watched the hairs in the mole on Mrs. Pettigrew's chin spring out like whiskers. Did the woman use them like a rat, to augment _hearing? _

"Someone's rumbly in his tumbly," Peter's Gran said, flashing yellowed teeth in a smile. She crooked a gnarled finger. "Eat," she coaxed.

Sirius swallowed hard and decided he had judged Peter too harshly about his fear of Mrs. McFee. With Granny Pettigrew for an example of little old witches, no wonder his mate thought they were all diabolical fiends! He tried to smile. "No thank you. We promised a friend's Mum we'd go over for breakfast, and we wouldn't want to spoil our appetite."

"A muffin won't spoil your appetite. I insist." Peter's Gran held out a muffin. Reluctantly, Sirius took it. The muffin smelled delicious. Surely, it wouldn't taste _that _bad. It wasn't big, so he shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

Peter asked, "What did you put in this time, Gran?"

The old hag grinned like a jack-o-lantern. "My new box of Cockroach Clusters."

Sirius closed his eyes and concentrated like never before. He sighed in relief when the nauseating glop in his mouth vanished due to wandless magic.

Misunderstanding his smile, Mrs. Pettigrew handed him another muffin.

-

James and Remus laughed almost as hard as Peter did telling the story. Sirius rolled his eyes and crammed another piece of bacon in his mouth. He was too happy to have done wandless magic…and avoided eating Cockroach Cluster muffins…to mind their amusement at his expense.

Finished with breakfast, he chewed on a brushing/flossing mint and listened to the conversation that resumed when the three finished snickering.

"Did you owl Dorcas about the Frost Fair?" James asked Remus.

Remus shook his head. "She comes from a big family. I'm sure they already had plans."

"If…if Jane hadn't stayed at school, I would've asked her," said Peter, his tone implying Remus should have owled.

Sirius said, "Tell me, Moony…were you afraid she'd say no or afraid she'd say yes?"

"Tell me, Padfoot, would you like to start the New Year with _philemaphobia _or _caligynephobia_?" Remus asked with a tight smile.

Peter scratched his head. "Fear of dogs and fear of women?"

"Fear of kissing and fear of beautiful women," Remus corrected.

Sirius balled up his serviette and threw it across the table. "Professor Lupin is avoiding the subject."

"Don't call me that," Remus snapped. After a moment, he said unhappily, "I think it would be unfair to become too close to Dorcas when she doesn't know what I am."

Peter looked at Sirius. "Too close…is he talking sex?"

Sirius grabbed an uneaten muffin out of the basket in front of him and chucked it at the worm-brain. "No, he means emotional closeness, not physical."

Peter caught the muffin. "Oh," he said around a huge bite.

James told Remus, "What you are is the nicest bloke at school. Dorcas knows that. She told Lily she wishes she'd asked you to visit over holiday."

"She did?" Remus looked pleased, but then his face fell. "That doesn't change the fact I'm a werewolf."

James smiled. "If you give Dorcas a chance, I bet your furry little problem won't matter."

"It isn't like you'd have to tell her anytime soon, either," said Sirius. "Wait until we get out of school, after that, even—whenever you feel the time is right."

"I'm sure he gets the point," James said.

Sirius realised his best mate had taken his advice to have a double meaning and shook his head ruefully.

Remus nodded. "I do get it…and I wish I'd owled."

"Never too late," James said. "We have a scops owl, small and fast, that can fly there and back in half an hour."

"All right," said Remus.

While James and Remus went to the library for parchment and quill, Sirius and Peter strolled into the lounge.

"Want to play a game?"

"What, Exploding Snap, since one of us has an actual chance at winning with those two out of the room?"

Peter snorted. "Yeah, doesn't seem fair, does it, for them to be lucky in cards and lucky in love."

"Life's not fair, and only Hufflepuffs think it should be."

Peter sprawled on the sofa. "I'm glad I'm not a Hufflepuff."

"You should be—yellow only looks good on beautiful blondes."

"I meant 'cause we wouldn't be friends."

In the chair beside the fireplace, Sirius stretched out his legs. "I know what you meant." His lips began to twitch. "Was that my cue to say something Hufflepuff like 'gosh, mate, I'm glad we're friends too'?"

"Yeah."

"Consider it said."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Sirius' eyes began to droop from the combination of warmth and full stomach. They opened wide when a thought struck. "Hey Wormtail, what you said to Moony…you're not doing that, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Having it off with Jane—you aren't, are you?"

Peter sat up so fast he almost toppled off the sofa. "No, of course not! That wouldn't be right, using the spell for…for…."

"Glad to hear it," Sirius said.

"What are you glad to hear?" asked James, entering the room with Remus.

Sirius blithely said, "Wormtail's made a New Year's resolution not to eat second breakfasts anymore."

Remus walked over to the sofa and clapped Peter on the shoulder. "An excellent resolution…I'm proud of you."

"Hear that Little John? You have Friar Moony's benediction."

Peter's eyes narrowed. "You should have it too, _Will_, for resolving to help me with my homework more."

"I do approve," Remus said with a smile.

Sirius sent the devious rat a grudging nod of admiration.

James said, "Anyone interested in playing Exploding Snap while we wait?"

The answer was a resounding 'NO!'

-

Dorcas answered yes to Remus' invitation in person. The boys having a smoke ring contest with a purloined cigar fell over themselves trying to clear the 'evidence' when she stepped out of the lounge fireplace.

"Who won?" she asked, looking toward Remus.

Sirius stepped forward and bowed. "I would like to take this opportunity to announce my retirement, undefeated, from the arena of smoke ring competition."

"That's not Quidditch!" cried James laughingly. "I gave you blokes another chance at Exploding Snap.

"I learnt from your mistake." Sirius turned to Dorcas, adding, "Remus won the re-match."

"Congratulations." Her smile was admiring.

Sirius thought if Moony didn't gain the courage to act like a proper boyfriend after this, he deserved the hexes that would be coming to him.

"Thank you," Remus said, walking over to say, "I'm sorry I didn't ask you to come with us earlier."

"That's okay. You asked. That's what matters," said Dorcas.

Remus' face relaxed into a smile that made him look his age, despite the grey in his hair.

Sirius grinned and said, "Hey James, are we taking a squire cab to pick up Lily?"

"Yes! I'll go call one, now."

After a short, exhilarating ride at high speed through Muggle traffic, the taxicab reached Lily's neighbourhood. Sirius and James got out while the others stayed in the cab.

"You could have waited with the others," said James.

Sirius said, "I wanted to tell you, I was only talking to Remus about Dorcas during breakfast, I wasn't trying to imply anything else."

"I figured that out from the 'oh crap' expression on your face."

They were nearing the front door. Sirius said, "Lily's Mum knows the fair has been Wizards-only since 1814, right? She's not going to make Petunia tag along, is she?"

"You sound nervous," James remarked. He smirked while ringing the doorbell. "Are you afraid she'd trip you on the ice in order to pin you down for a snog?"

"Deathly," answered Sirius, only slightly exaggerating. Petunia Evans was a little too _repressed_. She could snap at any moment, and he didn't want to be the unfortunate bloke who had to fight her off when she did.

Mrs. Evans answered the door and ushered them into the entry hall. "I'm so envious of Lily," she said with a smile. "I adore Regency romances, and would love to have seen the Frost Fair."

"I've brought my camera," said James. "I'll take pictures for you, if you'd like."

"How thoughtful!" Lily's mother exclaimed. "I would love to see part of the Thames frozen, and all the stalls with everything from chestnuts and jewellery to crafts."

"We could bring you back a bottle of mulled wine," Sirius offered.

"Won't be any good cold!" Petunia said from the lounge.

Sirius raised his voice to say, "The bottles have warming charms!"

"We do not drink much alcohol," said Mrs. Evans, "but if you come across hand-knit mittens, I should like a pair above all things."

"Mum, stop talking like a Georgette Heyer character!" Petunia yelled.

"I'm almost ready!" Lily called down the stairs.

While James went to wait by the staircase, Sirius padded into the lounge and saw Petunia lying on the sofa reading a book. He tilted his head to read the title aloud. "_The Convenient Marriage? _What's that? Your dream in life?"

In a flash, Petunia swung her legs off the sofa and snapped her book shut. "No one invited you in here!"

Sirius leaned back against the doorway, crossing his arms. "I thought I'd save you the trouble of shouting to be heard."

Her pointy chin lifted. "I suppose you think I'm rude, but I would rather shout than not be heard."

Sirius realised he and the prickly, unpleasant girl had something in common. With a small smile, he said, "So would I," and walked into the entry to greet Lily as she descended the stairs.

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta watched snowflakes fall outside her kitchen window and sighed. She had visited the Frost Fair several times during the years she'd spent in London. It was easy to imagine strolling hand in hand with Sirius, buying trinkets from street traders and skating together, laughing and kissing.

"Somewhere else you'd rather be?" asked Callum, plating an order.

She nodded. "You too?"

"I have a painting I'd rather be working on, but I find it easier to get lost in art if I have galleons to pay the bills."

Rosmerta smiled, taking the tray he handed her. "Dorrie said you're going to have a showing."

"A studio in Ullapool is interested in my landscapes. It's a start."

"I'll come, and so will Hamish and Fiona. We'll even throw you an after-party."

"Will I have to conjure?" Callum said straight-faced.

"No, of course—oh shut up," Rosmerta said. "Just for that, you get stale crisps and flat beer."

She returned to the pub and delivered the order, her professional smile freezing when her gaze fell on the wizard standing just inside the entrance. He held a silver-topped cane in black gloved hands, raising it to point to the side office corridor.

Rosmerta nodded before she told Dorrie, "I'll be in my office for a few minutes."

She found Lucius sitting in the chair behind the desk, removing his gloves. After she closed the door, Rosmerta leaned back against the door rather than give him the advantage by sitting in a lower seat.

A corner of Lucius' mouth tugged upward. "Aren't you going to wish me a Happy New Year?"

"No."

A fleeting smile warmed icy features. "Strong-willed as ever, I see. I am fortunate my fiancée is easier to manage."

"Fiancée?"

"Yes," he said silkily. "The betrothal contract is signed. Narcissa Black will become Narcissa Malfoy at my convenience."

"Congratulations."

He inclined his head, pale eyes gleaming.

"That doesn't explain why you're here," Rosmerta said.

Lucius brought his fingers together in a steeple. "Our…binding…may have to be renewed."

"No," she said. In two strides, Rosmerta had snatched up a quill and a piece of parchment. She leaned over the desk and wrote, _I told Lucius Malfoy all my ex's— _before compulsion stopped her fingers. The last time, she'd only been able to force 'I told' onto the parchment. She stared at him angrily. "What have you done?"

"Weakened our bond, apparently, when I forged another one."

Oh gods, she'd been the one to suggest he get the girl to spill her father's secrets. She should have bitten her tongue! Rosmerta closed her mind against images of blood. "I won't go through that ritual again."

"It isn't necessary," Lucius said. "Blood magic isn't the only kind that binds."

"Why couldn't we use a _Fidelius_?"

He stood. "I told you before. A Secret-Keeper can choose to divulge their secret. I prefer simpler spells that cannot be revoked under any amount of _persuasion…."_

Dark spells, that left a taint on a person's soul. "No," Rosmerta said firmly.

"You don't have a choice," Lucius said, standing directly in front of her. "Wilkes may soon pay you a visit. This is the only way to protect both our interests."

"And if I refuse?"

"You're a smart girl. You won't jeopardise everything…and everyone…you hold dear."

No, she wouldn't. Sirius would laugh in Lucius' face and tell him to do his worst. To her shame, Rosmerta didn't have Sirius' courage—or his lofty principles. "What do we have to do?"

"I chant a spell that binds two people using a specific type of magic."

Her lips turned down. "S—"

His fingertips stilled her words. "Shhh," Lucius said. "No need to name it. It is a misnomer. Only certain _energy _must be exchanged, nothing more." His thumb brushed across her lips. "What may I do to facilitate our exchange?"

The only way Rosmerta was going to give off the kind of _energy _Lucius required was to pretend he was Sirius. "Take the tie out of your hair," she whispered.

He smiled. "Take off your blouse."

She closed her eyes. "Don't touch me with anything except your hair."

Rosmerta felt strands caress her cheek and imagined they were raven black.

-

* * *

- 

The Hog's Head inn was crowded with disreputable clientele bent on drinking in the New Year when Sirius stepped out of the Floo. His hooded, cloaked figure drew the notice of the barman, who said, "That'll be five galleons now and ten when you leave."

Sirius tossed a drawstring pouch onto the bar. "Payment in advance."

"Floo's open until three A.M.," the grouchy old barman called.

Sirius was already to the door. He raised a hand in acknowledgement.

The streets of Hogsmeade bustled with revellers who came to celebrate Hogmanay and ring in the New Year in the most famous wizarding village in Britain. In the village square, an enormous bonfire lit up the night. Sirius couldn't remember if the Hogmanay fire was to ward off evil spirits or cleanse the village, but he preferred to think of it as leaving the darkness of the past behind for a brighter year ahead.

When he reached the Broomsticks, one of the barmaids was encouraging the last customer to stagger over to the bonfire for the ceremony. The conjurer-artist bloke shut the front door behind her. Together, the pair walked toward the village square.

Sirius strolled around to the kitchen and knocked on the door. When Rosmerta opened it, he held out a coin. "I want your New Year to be a prosperous one, so although it isn't the stroke of midnight, and I'm tall and dark, but not a stranger, I hope I bring you good fortune."

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I'm already fortunate to have you in my life. I don't need anything more."

"_Ros! Have yeh left yet girl?"_

Rosmerta waved her wand to break the privacy ward on the kitchen and then answered, "I'm leaving now, Da!"

She drew a heavy cloak over the elaborate blue velvet dress she wore, waiting until she was outside to lift her heavy skirts and say, "Boots may not be as pretty as high heels, but they are emminently more practical."

Sirius covered his face with the hood of his cloak. "On you, they're pretty and practical."

Rosmerta tucked her arm into his. "You're so sweet. I wish I'd found a way to be in London with you," she said. "This has been a…a rough day."

"Good for business, bad for nerves?"

She hugged his arm close to her side. "You could say that."

In the centre of the village, they watched a ceremonial procession of eight torchbearers walk the perimeter of the square before approaching the bonfire and tossing in the birch poles serving as torches. When the last torch went up in flames, fireworks rocketed into the night sky to explode in a shower of silver and gold crackling stars.

The crowd exclaimed in oohs and aahs, clapping wildly in enthusiasm. Sirius noticed Rosmerta watching him intently. He leaned down to ask, "Is anything wrong?"

The band that had been playing traditional Scottish music led the throng in a spirited countdown before playing _Auld Lang Syne. _Over shouts of 'Happy New Year', Rosmerta stood on tiptoes to speak near his ear. "Everything is just right," she said, moving into his arms for a slow, sweet kiss.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: I write as if the story is being read straight through, even though there's a week between every chapter posted. So if anyone needs a reminder of why Rosmerta made a pact with Lucius, here's what she told Sirius in ch 17...

Rosmerta said, "_That_ was self-preservation. Jonathan kept sabotaging my jobs, trying to make me come back to him. Lucius offered me work at one of his clubs." (for information to use against Wilkes, and a pact of silence!)

This week, like every other, lol, a wacky combination of things inspired. Thinking 'what can the Marauders do on New Year's Eve' made me remember the Frost Fair (used in Regency romances, of which Georgette Heyer wrote many, although _A Convenient Marriage_ is one of her books set in the Georgian period :D) and speculate it went Wizards only. (until 2003, when Muggles horned in on the fun again) Lines from _Winnie the Pooh _and a _Simpsons_ episode—where Bart, about to be defeated by Homer in a video game, gets 'saved' by his mother unplugging the TV and says, _I'd just like to use this occasion to announce my retirement, undefeated from the world of video boxing_ inspired tooSo did reading about Hogmanay celebrations in small Scottish towns and a review where **An Aspiring Author **wondered who won Exploding Snap…all inspiration is a good thing—like last week's reviews from readers………♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **An Aspiring Author **♥** arb princess **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥ **comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **FNP **♥ **Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** GraceRichie **♥** grand admiral chelli **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Lilia Black **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥ **NaginiFay**♥ **Shadow-of the- Night35 **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥** The Allknowing Tonks **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ and ♥ **Ylime 166 **♥

* * *


	27. A Tangled Web

Chapter 27- A Tangled Web

-

The air of anticipation students displayed walking across Platform 9 ¾ in September was noticeably diminished in January. Christmas holiday was far shorter than summer and O.W.L's and N.E.W.T.'s did not loom in the fall as they did in the New Year.

One group of Gryffindors was a noticeable exception. Sirius listened to his friends chat excitedly and grinned, thinking he knew why. At Hogwarts, couples were able to spend time together every day.

His smile became wistful. He wished he could see Rosmerta every day, but if he did, Remus and Peter would know his runs to the village weren't just for exercise.

"Lily! Over here!" James shouted, raising his hand to wave at the girl walking toward them with her family in tow.

"I thought Head Boy was supposed to be a position of dignity," said Sirius.

"It's a position of power, too, which I will exercise to give you detention if you mock me," James said jokingly.

"Why would I mock you?" Sirius winked at his other mates. "I understand how absence makes the heart grow fonder. It's been, what, twenty four hours since you last saw her? I'm surprised you don't snog Lily in front of her parents!"

James said, "Just for that, you have to come with me and talk to Petunia while Lily says her goodbyes." Behind round glasses, hazel eyes were pleading. "Lily told me her sister ruins every parting with snide comments. If you're there…."

"She'll only be snide to me?"

"Yeah."

Sirius rolled his eyes and headed toward the Evans' family. He hugged Lily, greeted her parents, and then said to Petunia while James greeted the folks, "Did you make a New Year's resolution to wear more grey?"

Thin lips tightened. "Grey is a practical, neutral colour," said Petunia, crossing her wool-clad arms.

"Oh, so your resolution is to be sensible and inoffensive. I approve."

Her nostrils flared. "That is not my resolution, and I care nothing for your opinion, approving or otherwise."

Idly, Sirius asked, "What is your resolution, then?"

The reaction to his question was immediate and startling. Petunia's face mottled with colour. "None of your business!"

Curious, now, he smiled persuasively. "Tell me."

Her gaze narrowed into dark slits. "Tell me yours, first."

There was a stubborn tilt to the girl's pointy chin. Sirius glanced at James. He and Lily were smiling in response to whatever Mrs. Evans was saying. Deciding to humour Petunia, Sirius said, "I resolved to let nothing come between me and my girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend? Singular?" Disbelief rang in her voice.

"Yes, I only have one girlfriend." Sirius smiled. "She's all I need. What about you?"

"_I do not have a girlfriend!"_

Petunia looked so offended, Sirius burst into laughter. "I meant what is your New Year's resolution?"

"Oh," she said stiffly. The splotches of reddish-purple on her cheeks began to fade. "My resolution is to become Mrs. Vernon Dursley."

"Does Mr. Vernon Dursley share your resolve?" asked Sirius.

Petunia surprised him by admitting, "No, but he will."

Sirius saw Lily hugging her parents. He said, "Good luck with that," and out of habit held out his hand.

A spooked horse-look came over Petunia's long face. He half-expected her to bolt for the exit. Instead, she jerkily reached for his hand.

When he tried to pull away, she held on. James' words echoed in his mind. _Are you afraid she'd trip you on the ice in order to pin you down for a snog?_ Sirius didn't fancy being pinned to the platform, either.

He tugged, to no avail. Petunia took a step toward him, blotches of colour re-appearing on bony cheekbones.

"_Lily!" _Sirius yelped. "You haven't said goodbye to your sister, Petunia."

She dropped his hand like a hot coal. "I am here because my parents insisted. I have nothing to say to my freakish sister."

Sirius looked her up and down. "Then I feel even sorrier for you."

He turned his back on her and walked over to clap James on the shoulder. His mate got the hint. "Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Nice talking with you."

"Bye Mum and Dad…bye Petunia," said Lily.

Two out of three family members said goodbye in return. Sirius took one of Lily's bags and leaned in to say, "Want to know Petunia the Prune's New Year's resolution?"

The sad look in green eyes became impish. "I'm sure you'll tell me whether I want to or not."

"How well you know me." Sirius chuckled.

"What is it?" asked James.

"_To become Mrs. Vernon Dursley."_

Sirius expected Lily to laugh. He was aghast when tears sprang to her eyes. "Look," he said, "I'll put your luggage in our compartment. You go with James and…talk or whatever you need to do before the Prefects' meeting."

After James escorted Lily to the train, Sirius gave the distinctive 'Marauder whistle.' Peter came running. "Take Lily's luggage to our compartment," Sirius said.

Remus and Dorcas strolled up. "I thought only dogs came when people whistled," Remus said with a smile.

"Rats, wolves, people, too. All kinds of animals," Sirius said tersely, glancing at Dorcas.

She looked oblivious of a hidden meaning, and slightly puzzled. "Rats?"

Sirius said, "Yeah, they're not bad as people think. Make great pets."

Remus 'coughed.'

Dorcas said, "Oh, you were having me on!" She tapped her boyfriend playfully on the arm. "You're just as bad!"

"But you like us anyway," Sirius said as they boarded the Express.

He saw Dorcas smile at Remus. "Yes, I do."

-

In the compartment, Peter was huffing and puffing in his attempts to get the luggage stored away. Sirius concentrated. The bags lifted into the air and slid onto the storage rack.

"You've been practising wandless magic!" exclaimed Peter.

With Rosmerta's kisses as incentive, Sirius had worked hard to expand his repertoire of wandless spells.

"Well done," said Remus. He and Dorcas sat on the bench across from Sirius and Peter.

"Any chance you could conjure me a glass of water?" asked Dorcas.

Sirius conjured a cup and said, "_Aguamenti_."

"Lovely! Thank you," she said, taking a sip of cool water.

"You're welcome," said Sirius. Memories of the first time he'd worked the charm caused a smile to play across his lips while he stared out the window.

-

"_Aguamenti!" yelled Sirius, looking down at the empty goblet in frustration. He would be returning to school soon, and wanted to have the spell mastered beforehand. _

"_Try again," Rosmerta encouraged._

_He said disgustedly, "House elves don't need wands, or even words to work magic. Why can't I do this?" Sirius exhaled sharply. "Maybe I should try gesturing with my hand." He made a motion as if he was throwing water into the goblet, waved his hand over it, flicked his fingertips at it, and finally made a rude gesture with his middle finger. Nothing worked._

_A stifled giggle brought his eyes up. "Maybe I need a different kind of focus," he growled playfully. Sirius thrust both hands toward her chest. "Aguamenti!"_

_The equivalent of a bucket of water splashed Rosmerta. Her eyes were huge as she stood, shivering, in her wet t-shirt. "You…you…Aguamenti!" she yelled, sending a stream of water at his head. _

_Sirius shook dripping hair out of his face. "Now we're even," he said. Another jet of water collided with his shirt. He jumped at the icy shock. _

"_Now we're even," Rosmerta said with a saucy look._

_Sirius shook his head. "I can't see through your tee yet." He fired another wave at her. _

"_Aaahhh!" she cried, firing back. _

_They drenched the kitchen and each other in water. Teeth chattering, Rosmerta pulled off her tee and hurled it at him. "Okay, I give up; you can have the shirt off my back if it will make you stop!"_

_He took off his shirt and tossed it to her. "Let's trade, my shirt for yours." _

_She made no effort to catch it, allowing the sodden fabric to land in a puddle on the floor. Her eyes travelled over his body in a way that tempted Sirius to strip out of his denims. Rosmerta's voice was husky as she said, "When you leave Hogwarts, let's go somewhere warm, with a beach."_

"_A private beach?" he asked, padding toward her. _

_She lifted her face toward his, lips parting to return his kiss. "Very private."_

_-_

Sirius became abruptly aware that Dorcas had called his name…and not for the first time. "Yes?" he said.

"Lily seemed upset when I saw her. What was wrong?"

He said, "I'm not sure. Do you know why the thought of Petunia marrying a bloke named Vernon Dursley would be upsetting?"

Dorcas gasped, "_Dursley? _Are you sure?"

"I heard it from Petunia herself."

"Poor Lily, that's awful news." Dorcas reached for Remus hand and held on to it as if for support. "She told me about Vernon. He's come to dinner a few times. Ignorant, arrogant, bullying…Lily says he's prejudiced against other Muggles who are different from him. He would never accept that his sister-in-law is a witch." Her voice trembled, "She must feel her hopes of reconciling with Petunia are lost."

"Then you'll be her sister," Sirius said. "We'll be her brothers." He grinned. "Remus can be the smart one, Peter, the idiot she has to get out of scrapes, and I'll be the brother with all the looks, charm and wit." He continued drolly, "Of course, mother will like me best, but you'll all admire me too much to be jealous."

Dorcas brought a hand up to cover her mouth as she giggled.

Remus said dryly, "Sirius, we're not the Black family, with siblings dating."

After thwacking Peter on the ear for sniggering, Sirius said, "Cousins…the family has a habit of marrying _cousins, _not siblings, or I'd have more than eleven toes."

Peter, who had been rubbing his sore ear, sat up straight. "You have eleven toes?" He peered down at Sirius' shoes. "Which foot has the extra one?"

Remus and Dorcas were laughing quietly together. Sirius sent them a rueful look and said, "Both."

-

* * *

- 

She was not a crafty person. Rosmerta could hike trails, conjure cupcakes, decorate biscuits and cakes with icing, but when it came to Witch Guide crafts, she was a hopeless case.

"Damn!" she muttered, failing to separate the pink silk flower from the stem for the fourth time.

"Here, Auntie Rosmerta, let me show you," Natalie said. "If it doesn't pull right off, use scissors."

"Thanks," she said. "You're so good at this, why don't you make my flower faery for me?"

"Everyone has to make their own," reminded Natalie, sounding like a little mother. "Why don't you draw the face on the wooden bead while I fix some more flowers for your faery's skirt?"

"Okay." Rosmerta looked around at the other tables in the café area of the bookshop. Some of the girls had already created several 'faeries' with embroidery yarn hair and feather wings attached to pipe cleaner bodies. She hadn't even managed to finish the one.

"Good evening girls!" Hamish called, striding into the bookshop.

"_Good evening, Mr. McInnis!" _

"Good evening, Hamish!" Natalie said with a big smile.

Fiona left the counter where she was setting out the girls' snack. "Hamish!" she said breathily, in what Rosmerta thought of as her 'I'm going to be asking Ros to watch Natalie overnight again soon' voice. She looked down and frowned. "You made a _boy _faery?"

"Oh, he's so cute!" Natalie gushed, taking the tiny figure out of her leader's hand.

Rosmerta had unthinkingly copied the face of her Sirius angel ornament. She said, "I'll have to transfigure my flowers to black. My guy doesn't like pink."

The girls who had finished their craft gathered around, giggling over 'Miss Rosmerta's' black-clad faery. "He's wearing a skirt!" one girl said, shrieking with laughter.

"It's a flower kilt," said Rosmerta. "Mr. McInnis wears a kilt sometimes. It's very manly."

"Aye," said Hamish, "especially when you dinnae wear any—aye!" he finished quickly, apparently realising little girls shouldn't hear about kilts without knickers underneath.

"My flower faery wants a boyfriend who wears a black kilt," said Natalie.

"_Mine does too!"_ several of the girls chorused.

"Sit down at your tables and we'll come around to transfigure your flowers," Fiona directed. While Hamish began helping, she shook her head at Rosmerta. "See what you've started? First, it's faery boyfriends in black flower kilts, then comes teenaged boyfriends in black leather. Their mothers won't be thanking you."

"Let's not tell them," suggested Rosmerta, placing her tiny 'boyfriend' in her pocket.

"We won't have to," Fiona said with an evil grin. "Their little darlings will be only too happy to do the dirty work."

"Could they be bribed with extra biscuits?"

"Not a chance."

Rosmerta sighed and pushed to her feet, walking toward the nearest table with girls clamouring for black flowers.

-

That night in the pub, her fellow shopkeepers talked excitedly about the students who had returned to Hogwarts that day. The consensus was they would not expect the children to have much money to spend on the next Hogsmeade weekend.

On a stool at the bar, Fiona snorted. "Kids are my worst customers. They read the books in the shop. If they didn't buy so many biscuits and drinks, I'd go broke."

"I thought you had a trust from Artie," Rosmerta said.

"I do. I meant that figuratively, not literally."

Hamish said, "I don't have a trust, but I'm fortunate sporting goods sell year round."

Fiona pretended to scowl. "Rub it in, why don't you?"

He put his hands on her back and began to rub slow circles. "Your wish is my command."

"You heard that Ros, I consider that an Unbreakable Vow." Fiona laughed.

Rosmerta shook her head. "Don't joke about irreversible spells."

"I didn't mean to," Fiona said, tilting her head to look into her friend's face. "Do you know someone who's worked irreversible magic or something? Did they have a bad experience?"

"Yes."

A warlock at the other end of the bar held up his tankard. Rosmerta nodded to him before making a face at Fiona. "Back to work."

"All work and no play makes Rosmerta a dull girl." Fiona smiled determinedly. "We have to find you a date."

"No, thank you," Rosmerta said, backing away.

The warlock who wanted another round flirted with her for the rest of the night. He was attractive, a solicitor, and more than interested in taking her out. Other than a casually friendly response to his banter, however, he received no encouragement.

That night, before she went to bed, Rosmerta penned a letter. On the 'official' side was a light, chatty enquiry as to how he was settling back in at school and if anything interesting had happened on the train. On the back, she wrote a secret message.

**B (Too modest to be called a Bonnie lad? How about Braw at kissing?)**

**Fiona brought up my lack of love life again. I said 'no thank you' to her offer to find me a date. I look forward to the day I can tell her I already have a love, and no one compares to you.**

**Yours, **

**B (Barmy over you)**

She was pleased to get a letter back the same morning she'd sent the owl with Sirius' note. Rosmerta stood in the kitchen of the Broomsticks and opened the letter with eager fingers, shivering in reaction to the cold draft that had come into the room with the owl. She froze after the invisible words revealed themselves upon the parchment.

**You called me your love. Does that mean you love me?**

-

* * *

- 

Sirius had never been so frustrated in his life. Not physically frustrated—that had been Christmas Eve, when Rosmerta's tongue and body moved in ways that made him think he was getting what he _really _wanted for Christmas before she bolted for the Floo.

He was emotionally frustrated, because she wouldn't answer a single, simple question.

_Does that mean you love me?_

It had been hard to sleep the night after he'd sent the owl. He'd awakened early and sat drumming his fingers on the table in the Great Hall, more nervous than he'd ever remembered feeling in his life. When the owl dropped the letter on the table, he'd snatched it up and told his friends he'd forgotten a book back in the dorm.

Sirius didn't return to Gryffindor House. He ducked behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy and scattered wax on the floor in his haste to break the seal. Inside, a short, 'pen-friend' letter hid the real message on the other side.

'**Love' is a term of endearment.**

He'd crumpled the parchment in his fist. What in the bloody hell did that mean? He dumped his school bag out to find quill and parchment to scrawl a note. He didn't bother with a cover letter, and jogged to the Owlery to send the message as soon as he'd finished sealing it.

**Do you love me?**

Now she had owled back.

**Why are you asking me this?**

He laughed, reading that. Wasn't it obvious?

"You sound bitter," James said, walking into the niche behind the statue.

"Why did you follow me?" Sirius asked sharply.

"Because if I didn't, Moony and Wormtail would have," answered James. "When you run out of the Great Hall every morning after the post comes, people notice."

Sirius held out the note.

James read it. "What did you ask her?"

Sirius looked away, scowling.

James said, "No. You did not ask a girl if she loves you in a letter." After a minute of tense silence, he asked, "Did you at least tell her you loved her _before _you asked?"

"No."

"Dammit, I thought you were supposed to be the one who had all the experience with women! Even I didn't do that!"

Sirius blinked. "Hold on. You told Lily you _loved _her. When did this happen?"

"New Year's Eve."

The pair had been extra lovey-dovey lately. Now he knew why. They were officially _in love. _How nice for them.

"Congratulations," Sirius muttered.

"We're not engaged," James said dryly.

"Oh, I thought maybe you were keeping that a secret too, or were planning on sending a wedding invitation to announce it."

James laughed. "I promise you'll be the first to know."

"Good of you."

"Yes, it is…and why don't you be good and write to," James paused and lowered his voice to say, "_Your girlfriend_ that you want to talk to her on Hogsmeade weekend."

"That's a week away!"

"Gives you both time to think, and besides, there are assignments you haven't done, upcoming exams you haven't studied for. If you don't get yourself together, your privileges will be revoked."

Sirius snatched the note back and angrily crumpled it into a ball. "She's got me so wound up I can't concentrate. It would serve her right if I didn't answer for a few days."

"Perhaps that's best," said James.

Sirius smoothed out the parchment before folding it and placing it within an inner pocket in his robes. "Are you mental? I'm going to write her back right now!"

"No, you aren't, you're going straight to class."

A trace of a whine entered Sirius' voice. "It's Binns, he won't notice if I'm late!"

James shook his head with a smile. "Quit tugging at the leash, you dog. Send her an owl after lunch."

"Fine. I'll write her a note in class."

-

Sirius made a conscious effort to keep his 'pen friend' note light. He was still smiling, imagining Rosmerta smiling, when Professor Binns stopped droning about Troll treaties and said, "Mr. Black, how many times do I have to remind you of class policy? Stand and read your note aloud."

His chair made a scraping sound as he pushed it back. Pretending not to hear the snickers of his classmates, Sirius began to read.

**I wanted to return your message as quickly as possible, so I'm writing you instead of taking notes in History of Magic. If you're worrying that I missed a valuable learning opportunity, let me set your mind at ease. Professor Binns has such a…striking…voice and 'unique' style of presentation, I—and everyone else in class, I am sure—have NO trouble remembering the historical facts he brings to life so stirringly.**

Sirius read the note as if he'd been sincere, but he was still on tenterhooks waiting for Binns to react. Beside him, Jane stared with an open mouth before hastily pushing her notes toward him.

He scanned them quickly and inwardly blessed her when Binns said, "Since you have no trouble remembering historical facts, Mr. Black, state the leaders integral in forging the Troll Treaty of 1812."

After listing the leaders, wizard and troll, Sirius gazed at the teacher as if eager to rattle off more names and dates. Binns said quietly, "Thank you, Mr. Black. You may be seated."

"Thanks, Jane," Sirius whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"Peter always says anything for a friend," she whispered back.

At the front of the classroom, the ghostly professor smiled slightly while he addressed the class. "There comes a time in every educator's life, when he or she ponders whether they are making an impact on students' lives. When a professor begins to question his calling, a validation, such as the one I received today, is exactly the tonic needed to reaffirm a lifelong…or eternity-long…commitment to teaching."

Sirius could feel the heat of his classmates' glares and knew that if James was looking at him, he would see an 'oh crap' expression on his face.

-

The days leading up to Hogsmeade weekend dragged by so slowly, Sirius felt his mood slipping into something dark and dangerous. In every letter, Rosmerta said she missed him, but she never wrote for him to slip out and visit her before the weekend. He never suggested it either, but he felt he shouldn't have to.

On Saturday morning, when James and Remus had already dressed and gone down to the common room, Sirius remained beside his window. He looked out, wondering if Rosmerta would tell him she loved him—if this would be the best or worst day of his life.

"Are you missing your girlfriend?"

Sirius turned to stare at Peter.

"I meant pen friend," the white-faced boy corrected.

In three strides, Sirius grasped Peter's jumper in his fists and gave the rat a shake. "How do you know she's my girlfriend?"

"Uh…uh…R—Remus."

Sirius thrust Peter away from him. "_Remus_ told you my pen friend is my girlfriend?"

The flat, disbelieving tone brought a flush to Peter's face. "He…he…didn't _mean _to. It…it just slipped out." Round face despairing, he pleaded, "D—don't…don't tell Remus I…I…told you. He'll be so _disappointed _in me…."

Sirius heard his father's voice echo in his mind.

_I am so disappointed in you._

Sirius said, "I won't tell him if you keep your mouth shut."

Peter said earnestly, "I won't tell a soul. I'll be your secret keeper, like I was about the spell. You can trust me." He caught Sirius' arm when he nodded curtly and made to leave. "I…I only asked because you…you seemed upset, and you're my best mate, and you'd do the same for me."

Yes, he would ask what bug crawled up the rat's arse if Peter acted the way he'd been acting. Sirius clapped his friend on the back. "Thanks."

They walked downstairs and found their friends waiting.

"Everything all right?" Remus asked.

Sirius forced himself to smile. "Sure."

-

In the village, Sirius trailed the group, his mind on Rosmerta. After half an hour of pointless shopping, he pulled James aside. "Look, I'm going to see her, tell the others I'm off on a ramble."

James glanced at his watch. "I thought she wasn't expecting you for another hour."

"I don't feel like waiting anymore," Sirius said. "I'll see you later."

Before he reached the Broomsticks, Sirius cast a Disillusionment charm to blend into the shadows. He entered the pub and watched Rosmerta serve drinks, struck as always by her beauty and the warmth of her smile. She was genuinely friendly to the students who packed the bar and always patient, no matter how many times a new customer asked 'what do you have' when she asked what she could get them.

Sirius smiled as he walked back to her office. Seeing her put everything into perspective. Rosmerta's feelings for him had to be as real and deep as his were for her. All he needed to do was wait for her to tell him the three words he needed to hear.

In her office, his ego received a boost to see the desk calendar with days marked off with huge X's and the circles and stars surrounding the Saturday block with 'Hogsmeade weekend' written in it. He nosed around, but there was nothing except business correspondence on the desk. Sirius sat in one of the visitors' chairs and looked at the black and white pictures of mountains on the wall. Had Diarmid taken the photographs?

The door opened.

Sirius watched in disbelief as Lucius Malfoy entered, followed by Rosmerta. The arrogant Slytherin sat in her chair and leisurely began to remove his gloves. "Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?" Malfoy drawled.

Rosmerta remained standing in front of the door. "I think I know why, and the answer is 'No'."

"Don't you want to hear my proposition first?"

Unseen, Sirius' hands closed into fists. He relaxed slightly when Rosmerta shook her head.

"The only thing I want is for you to leave," she said. "You made sure on your last visit that Jonathan will never find out I told you his secrets. That was the end of our business."

"It doesn't have to be."

Sirius' muscles tensed with the effort not to attack. If Malfoy didn't want sexual favours before, he sure as hell wanted them now.

"Yes, it does," said Rosmerta adamantly.

Malfoy smiled. "I'm not married yet, and you're not seeing anyone. Where's the harm?" He stood and put his hands back to remove the tie from his hair. "You enjoyed the touch of my hair on your skin during our binding spell. Think of the pleasure you'd feel without the barrier of clothing…and with your eyes open."

"No. I want you to leave!"

"And I want you naked on this—"

Malfoy's confident smirk vanished when he caught a blur of movement as Sirius lunged across the desk, sending papers flying and his adversary to the floor.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: I've had shorter chapters, and now longer chapters. It all evens out, lol. This week, Sirius using _Aguamenti_ in my R/T fic inspired the use of it in this chapter as well. And if anyone was reminded of the scene in 'Spiderman' when Peter Parker was trying to figure out how to use his web, that flashed into my mind as well when I wrote Sirius' attempt at wandless spell casting, LOL. The flower faery is a real craft, 'Flower Friends' found at familyfun . com for any interested. (they didn't have boys in black, though- that was my contribution:D) I'm going to be very interested to read the reviews this week, hehheh, and the readers who gave me the gift of feedback last chapter were…………♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **An Aspiring Author **♥ **comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Dolphindreamer **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawon **♥ **FNP **♥** grand admiral chelli **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Lilia Black **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥ **Newbie GK **♥ **Shadow-of the- Night35 **♥ **siriuslycoco **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ and ♥ **Ylime 166 **♥


	28. Dirty Little Secrets

Chapter 28- Dirty Little Secrets

-

There was a savage pleasure to be found in Muggle duelling. The sound of fist meeting flesh and the sight of blood gave visceral satisfaction unequalled in hexing.

"Sirius, please! He's not worth it! _Stop!_"

Rosmerta's pleas went unheeded. Malfoy had picked the wrong woman to play games with, and now he was getting his arse kicked. Baring his teeth in a feral grin, Sirius punched the whimpering bastard in the nose and felt blood gush over his knuckles.

_"Stupefy!" _

Sirius froze, arm raised to deliver another blow. Eyes locked in place, he saw Rosmerta bend over Malfoy, wand in hand.

The healing spell she had begun to chant broke off when the door to the office flung open.

"Rosmerta, I heard shouting!"

Sirius recognised the voice. It was Callum, the short-order conjurer.

"I have everything under control," said Rosmerta. "Lock the door on your way out."

"But…he…you…."

"_Go, please!" _

"All right."

When the door shut, Rosmerta started the spell over again.

Sirius could do nothing but watch the damage he had inflicted slowly heal itself by magic. The busted lip, the broken nose, the black eye and bruised cheek all regained their former shape and colour, unfortunately.

After the last charm, Malfoy scrambled to his feet. His voice was shaky as he said, "Is the animal that attacked me still beside the desk? I believe payback is in order."

"_Accio _wand!" Rosmerta said, moving to stand between Sirius and Malfoy.

Sirius could not help but think that although he liked the view, he would much rather see what was going on.

"You brought that on yourself, and I'll snap your wand in half if you try to hurt him!"

Rosmerta's impassioned tone caused Sirius' heart to leap.

"Who exactly will I be hurting?" the Slytherin asked coolly.

"None of your business!"

"I'm making it my business, because I repay my enemies three-fold."

"Not this time."

"Every time," Malfoy snapped. He exhaled, in what must have been an attempt to control his temper, because the next time he spoke, his voice was calmer. "You said his name. What is it?"

Rosmerta didn't answer.

"Hmm…if you won't cooperate, I will recall it myself." After a few moments, Malfoy said, "I was on the floor, reeling beneath a vicious attack, when you cried…_Sirius, please…_." The wizard's tone shifted from thoughtful to malicious. "Sirius is quite an unusual name, isn't it? I don't believe I know more than one wizard saddled with it."

If Sirius had been able to move, he would have gone for Malfoy's throat.

"Is that why you weren't interested in my proposition? You _are _attached…to a schoolboy?" Darkly amused laughter spilled into the room. "Wilkes believes you living a cloistered life, broken-hearted without him. How humiliating it will be to learn who has replaced him in your bed."

Sirius changed his mind. If he got the chance, he would choke Malfoy with one hand and punch him in the gut with other.

"You won't tell anyone _anything,"_ Rosmerta said with certainty.

"What will stop me?"

Rosmerta laughed shortly. "Are you so arrogant you think magic works one way? I may be bound to you, to keep your secrets, but you are just as bound to me."

"No."

"Go around the desk and pick a quill and parchment off the floor. Try to write 'Rosmerta is keeping company with Sirius Black.' See what happens."

Sirius heard footsteps, the rustle of parchment, and then a mirthless chuckle.

"Well, well, well, who would have guessed a sweet little Hufflepuff could be so cunning? You may have been mis-sorted."

"Take your wand. We'll keep our secrets and go our separate ways."

With a cruel smile in his voice, Malfoy said, "Ah, there's the Hufflepuff. You were not mis-sorted, regardless of Slytherin tendencies."

"Let it go," Rosmerta urged. "Leave and don't come back."

"I'll go," Malfoy said, "and leave you to wonder how I will repay." The floorboards creaked as steps were taken. The man's voice was closer when he murmured, "Three-fold also pertains to desire. I made a resolution during our tryst on New Year's Eve. Shall I tell you what it is?"

"I've told you before, and I'll tell you again. The answer is 'No.'"

"Very well…it will be a surprise."

After he heard the door open and close, Sirius listened to Rosmerta turn the lock before she returned to release him from the spell. He broke the Disillusionment charm and stood to face her.

"Your hand!" she gasped, at the sight of his bloody knuckles. "Let me take care…."

"The way you took care of things on New Year's Eve?" When she paled, he said, "What exactly happened during that _tryst _with Malfoy?"

"It wasn't a tryst!" Rosmerta shook her head. "It was a binding spell to reinforce our original pact." Her mouth opened and closed before she said, "I can't tell you more."

"You don't have to." Sirius smiled mirthlessly. "I have a better memory than Malfoy. I remember what he said about touching you with his hair." He moved forward until his body brushed hers. He felt rage boiling out and hoped it scalded her the way it burned through him. "Is that what you meant when you said you had a rough day? Was that why you had to close your eyes?"

"I couldn't do it unless I pretended he was you."

Sirius pressed closer, his hands wrapping around her upper arms. "_Do it? _What kind of magic were you _doing _Rosmerta?"

Blue eyes swam with tears that spilled over when she admitted, "Dark magic."

He didn't feel better, making her cry. Sirius' emotions were as agonised as his tone. "Sex magic."

"_No, that's a misnomer!" _

"Is that what he told you?" He shifted to hold her against the desk. "He lied."

Her gaze pleaded for understanding. "I never kissed him, I never wanted Lucius to touch me in any way, but I had no choice!"

Sirius bent Rosmerta back over the desk, his face close to hers as he said harshly, "You had a choice!"

-

* * *

- 

She put her hands to his chest and tried to push him away. "Lucius Malfoy isn't just a pure-blooded snob, he's dangerous…he has _connections…." _When Sirius didn't budge, Rosmerta grabbed his jumper. "If I refused, one night a Dark Mark would loom in the sky above the Broomsticks. Is that the choice you wanted me to make?"

Sirius' jaw, the tendons in his neck, and his hold tightened. Stormy eyes told her the answer, even though he stubbornly refused to admit it.

She stopped trying to fight. Rosmerta lifted her hands to cradle his face. "Say you understand, say you forgive me."

He kissed her.

Rosmerta felt resentment, hurt, and possessiveness in the rough closing of his lips over hers. She softened against him, entreating with her kiss and gentle stroking of his face, his hair. He continued to claim her mouth in heated passion that weakened her knees and made it hard to catch her breath.

Abruptly, he lifted her to sit on the desk, boldly pushing up her skirt to position himself between her legs. "What if he threatens to kill everyone you love unless you…." When Rosmerta flinched at the crude words, Sirius released her arms to pull her hips nearer.

Her breath caught. She said, "He won't. He's too vain."

Sirius laughed without amusement. "He's a Slytherin…a lackey of Voldemort…vanity won't stop him."

"Don't say…."

He overrode her. "Say what? _Voldemort? _Why not? Maybe if more people stood up and called him what he truly is, a murdering coward who flees death, he wouldn't hold the power he does."

Rosmerta placed her fingers across his mouth. "He _deals _death, Sirius. Those who follow him are _Death Eaters. _If they learn you speak against him, they will kill you. I've seen it happen." Her voice wavered. "I cannot bear to lose you."

He gazed at her steadily. "Why?"

"Why do you ask?" she countered, a jumble of emotions twisting her insides. Vulnerability and insecurity made her demand, "I'm a challenge to you, is that it? The girls at Hogwarts are too easily won over by your looks and charm?" Her fingers gave the strip of leather encircling his waist a tug. "Do you want another notch on your belt?"

"It isn't like that and you know it!" His voice was low and emphatic.

Rosmerta said, "How? You won't tell me!"

Sirius' head jerked back as if stung. He snarled, "I owl every damn day! I've never done that before or even gone with anybody this long…that should tell you…." He broke off, scowling.

"That you want me?" Something reckless and hot drowned out the voice of reason. She wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned back to undo her blouse. "Fine. Have me." Rosmerta sat up and reached for his belt. Sirius blocked her hands and tried to step back. She tightened her calves.

In seconds, his hands had encircled her wrists and pinned them above her head. The cold, hard surface of the desk was a sharp contrast to the firm, warm body holding hers immobile.

"Don't tempt me," Sirius growled.

The temporary madness that had filled her dissipated, leaving Rosmerta hollow and empty. "Why?" _If you love me, why won't you tell me? _

He let go of her wrists. "I asked you first."

Her legs unlocked their hold. "I need to know why you asked."

His eyes held hers, grey and turbulent. Strands of hair fell into his face. Rosmerta longed to brush them back, to wrap her arms around Sirius and tell him how she felt, but she was afraid. She was the one who said 'I love you' to Jonathan first. Afterwards, she had never been able to shake the worry he said the words in return because she expected him to. She didn't want to repeat that pattern.

They both jumped when a knock sounded.

"Rosmerta, I'm worried. If you don't come out, I'm coming in."

Sirius backed away while Rosmerta fumbled to refasten her blouse. "I'll be out in a few minutes, Callum. Tell the girls to handle things as best they can. I will be there to help soon."

"They don't need help, but it sounds like you do. I'm coming in. _Alohomora!" _

Rosmerta hopped off the desk, smoothing down her skirt. Sirius had already engaged a Disillusionment charm.

Callum walked in, his dark gaze travelling from the cleared-off desk to the papers scattered over the floor. "Dorrie said Malfoy left here in a cold rage. Did he try to rape you? Is that why you had to fight him off?"

"His kind use threats, coercion…and he learnt not to try it on me again," Rosmerta said, trying to reassure her employee and get him out of the room. "I'll clean the mess…."

"No, I'll clear it," Callum said. "You fix your blouse."

She looked down to see several buttons fastened in the wrong buttonholes. "Oh shite," muttered Rosmerta.

The door slammed closed, as though by a gust of wind.

"Shite," she repeated miserably.

Sirius was gone.

Her head was spinning. Had she made the biggest mistake of her life? What if Sirius was like her, needing to hear 'I love you' first—had her insistence that _he _say it convinced him she didn't care? What if he never came back…wouldn't take her owls anymore…what would she do?

"Aw, hell, you're crying." Callum sounded like most men, uncomfortable when faced with female tears. He said, "Look. You go upstairs. I'll finish cleaning and tell the girls you've taken to your bed, sick."

Rosmerta nodded jerkily and rushed out, escaping through the door to the kitchen and up the steps. Her father called out, "That you, Ros?"

"Yes, Da, I've got the headache summat fierce. I need to lie down."

"Scots in yer speech? Aye, yer need ter rest, lass," Diarmid teased.

She gave a watery laugh. "Yeah, Da."

In her room, Rosmerta threw herself down on the bed and cried her heart out.

-

* * *

- 

The sun sank beneath the horizon, but the only change in the Hog's Head tavern was a deepening of the gloom. The coals in the grate sputtered, sending out more smoke than heat. Sirius did not care. Firewhisky kept him warm, and the atmosphere matched his black mood.

He had been sitting in the corner, hunched over a tumbler, since shortly after he'd left the Broomsticks. Dressed in a black hooded cloak, he was a silent, unapproachable presence…until Peter stumbled into the pub.

With detached amusement, Sirius watched the podgy boy dressed in a bright blue cloak make his hesitant way to the bar. Faintly, he heard, "Uh, excuse me, I'm looking for someone."

Every conversation suddenly halted. Sirius called, "Over here, worm-brain."

The atmosphere in the pub relaxed into cautious enjoyment once more. Peter turned, waving his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke. He noticed the figure standing and said, "I found him, Thank you. May I have a beer…in a bottle?"

The barman plunked down the beer. "Four galleons."

"_Four?" _

Sirius smirked when he heard the barman say, "Tap is cheaper."

Even from across the room, he could see Peter's eyes widen, looking at the dirty mugs lining the shelves. The boy quickly placed four galleons on the scarred wood and scurried over to Sirius with his beer. "Think this is imported?"

"From Inverness-shire."

"Oh," said Peter. He frowned. "Is that in the Highlands?"

"Are you an ignoramus for asking?"

Peter grinned. "You're words aren't slurred. That's good. Remus thought they would be by now."

Sirius would have been slurring, if he'd done less brooding and more drinking. He curled his lip. "What else did Moony _let slip _about me?"

"Nothing, really." Peter broke down beneath a grim stare. "Just…just that alcohol doesn't solve problems…it adds to them."

"What does he know?" Sirius took a drink and enjoyed the mellow burn. "Getting plastered is the only ancient and noble family tradition I've ever enjoyed. Why should I keep a resolution to give it up?"

"I…I don't care if you drink," said Peter, lifting his beer.

"Good man." Sirius circled the rim of his glass with a fingertip. "Did you pull the short quill again? Is that why you're here?"

Peter shook his head. "No. I left the others playing cards in the common room and came on my own. I was…uh…worried about you."

"Damn, that's touching." Sirius snorted.

Peter snickered, admitting, "Jane told me to say that."

Sirius' half-smile twisted. "You're lucky. Not every bloke has a girl who sees everything he does in the best light."

"Is that why you're drinking? Your girlfriend doesn't see something you did in the best light?"

Sirius almost told his mate that he didn't want to talk about it…but he did want to talk about it, and since Peter wasn't like Remus—he could keep a secret—Sirius said, "I asked her if she loved me. What was so bad about that?"

"Did you tell her you loved her?"

Bloody hell, he was re-living the conversation with James. "No."

Peter stared.

_"Well?" _Sirius ground out.

"Will you hex me if I tell you?"

Sirius blew out an exasperated breath. "Have I ever hexed you before?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm sure you deserved it, and no, I won't hex you. Spit it out."

"Okay…it's bad…if she doesn't want to be the first one to say it."

Sirius frowned. "What does it matter who says it first?"

"It must matter to you, since you haven't said it to her."

If Wormtail had picked up the bottle of firewhisky and broken it across Sirius' head, the impact would have been less stunning. Sirius reeled inwardly, trying to come to terms with what he'd just learnt about himself.

He wanted Rosmerta to be the first to say 'I love you.' Why? The answer flashed into mind.

_Because no one else ever has…._

Not his mother, his father, or his brother…they had all, on separate occasions, in different ways, reluctantly accepted the declaration of his feelings and returned them in small measure. A slight smile, a pat on the back, or a hug…never did they say the words Sirius longed to hear.

Somewhere along the way, he had decided never to leave himself open to rejection again. He hadn't realised it…because he'd never loved anyone the way he loved Rosmerta.

_I need to know why you asked._

"What have I done?" Sirius whispered, remembering the tears in Rosmerta's eyes. Tears he had caused, because he was an arrogant, unforgiving bastard.

"It isn't too late," said Peter. "You can owl her."

"No, I have to see her."

Peter stood when Sirius did. "How will you do that?"

The volume of noise in the Hog's Head lowered. Sirius could feel the other patrons straining to hear what probably looked like an interesting conversation. He said, "Outside," and strode toward the door. Behind him, a fight broke out over who would claim the rest of the whisky in the bottle he left on the table.

"You talked about being my Secret-Keeper. I'm not up to performing a complicated Fidelius Charm, but if I trust you with another secret, your promise better be as binding," said Sirius, when they reached the street.

Peter's breath puffed white in the darkness as he scurried to keep up. "You can trust me. I won't breathe a word, I'll never let it slip, I promise."

Sirius nodded sharply. "She lives in Hogsmeade." He watched Peter's mouth fall open and smiled faintly. "My girlfriend is Rosmerta."

"_Madam Rosmerta?_ The same Rosmerta you used to stare at back in second year?_" _

"She's only twenty one—don't call her madam—and I never knew you caught me staring."

"I'm good at not being caught."

Sirius gave a huff of laughter. "Another one of your sterling qualities, mate."

A pleased smile spread across Peter's face. "I try."

After smiling a little, Sirius said, "I have to see her. Cover for me, tell the blokes I went on a long run to clear my head and everyone else that I used a Disillusionment charm to stagger upstairs." James would suspect he had gone to see Rosmerta, but Sirius wanted his friends to each be unaware the other knew his secret. He figured it would keep easier, that way.

-

Standing at the back of the Broomsticks, Sirius looked up at Rosmerta's window, fiercely glad to see a pale face staring down at him. She hadn't given up on him. She had been right there, waiting.

He used a Sonorous charm to project his voice, so he could have whispered her name and she would have heard it. Sirius opened his mouth, planning to call her name the way he had before, charmingly, persuasively. What came out was a bellow evoked by raw need.

"ROSMERTA!"

-

* * *

- 

A/N: This chapter was **not **named after The All American Rejects song—the phrase was around long before they were. Not that the tune isn't catchy, but the lyrics don't fit. : )

When I started planning this story, I wanted Sirius to call 'Rosmerta!' twice…once like Paul Newman/Ben Quick in The Long Hot Summer. (I love Ben's line _Miss Clara, you slam the door in a man's face before he even knocks on it._) and once like Marlon Brando/Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire. (When it comes to fanfiction, like Blanche, _I have always depended on the kindness of strangers. _:D)

I sure don't claim to be Faulkner or Williams, but I hope readers have enjoyed this story. I wish it could last forever, but it will only be thirty chapters. A couple of one shots will follow, so I hope that news, at least, will be welcome. The readers whose reviews were more than welcome last chapter were…♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥ **comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Dolphindreamer **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawon **♥** Evil-Angel-911 **♥** FHGVZEhyde **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** grand admiral chelli **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Lilia Black **♥** Machiavelli Jr **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥ **Newbie GK **♥ **siriuslycoco **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥** The Allknowing Tonks **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ and ♥ **Ylime 166 **♥

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	29. All About Trust

Chapter 29- All About Trust

-

Sirius knew he was taking a chance. Even though the version of Sonorous charm he was using should only project his voice into Rosmerta's bedroom, if she hadn't engaged a privacy ward, her father would hear.

He didn't care.

"_ROSMERTA!"_

She stepped back from the window.

Heart racing, Sirius strode forward.

Rosmerta threw open the kitchen door and ran toward him. She was wearing the same clothes as earlier, but now they were heavily creased. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was pink.

Sirius thought she had never looked more beautiful.

She threw herself into his open arms. "I'm so sorry," Rosmerta said in a teary voice. "I love you, and I trust you with my heart, with everything. I do. _I love you!"_

Gods those words sounded so sweet. He blinked rapidly, trying to control his emotions. He brushed kisses across her hair, her brow, her jaw, and then took her lips in a kiss that made him want to laugh and shout with happiness.

"I love you," he said huskily, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm begging, darling please forgive me for not saying it before."

Her fingers stroked his hair. "There's nothing to forgive, but if there were, how could I not forgive a man who quotes Clapton?"

Sirius looked up. "You've heard of Eric Clapton?"

Rosmerta smiled. "Like a fool, I fell in love with you; you turned my whole world upside down."

He rose to his feet. "You know Muggle music."

She slid her arms around his neck. "Some."

"Do you know the Sex Pistols or The Clash?"

An adorable look of concentration crossed her face. "Punk rock?"

Sirius kissed Rosmerta soundly on the lips. "You are the perfect woman."

Her expression grew cloudy. "I'm far from perfect, love."

"You're perfect for me and that's all that matters," he said with a confidence that brought a smile to her face.

"You're perfect for me too."

Sirius noticed Rosmerta's teeth were chattering. "Not perfect enough to notice pink lips turning blue. Let's go inside and get you some tea."

She laughed self-consciously. "I didn't think about grabbing a cloak. All I could think about was you."

He took off his cloak and bundled Rosmerta into it, snatching another kiss. "I like the way you think." Sirius opened the back door to the Broomsticks. "I'd deserve it if you thought 'I have to shut that damn drunk up.'" He followed her into the kitchen, adding hastily, "I'm not drunk, though, and I can prove it if you want."

Rosmerta giggled as she walked toward the stove. "Performed many a sobriety test, have you?"

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "One, actually, and it was Muggle." He took off his cloak and strolled over to watch her make tea. "I passed with flying colours, even though I was completely arseholed." Immediately, he realised he shouldn't have bragged about that after volunteering to prove sobriety.

She laughed at his expression. "Don't worry. I'd give you Sober Up if I was concerned."

"Handed out many a sobriety potion, have you?" he asked teasingly.

"Yes, I have—goes with the occupation." Rosmerta offered him a cup of tea.

Sirius cupped his hands around the warm mug. "Do you enjoy running a pub?"

She sipped her tea before answering, "I do. I like people, having a chat, bringing a smile to someone's face."

"Must be a lot of responsibility."

"Yes, but it makes me happy to know my father trusts me to handle it."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't think I'd do well, being tied down to one place."

"How about being tied down to one person?"

He almost joked '_by _one person—you—sounds fun.' The trace of insecurity in her expression compelled him to answer, "I don't consider it being tied down, to love one person faithfully. I think it would be freeing, to know wherever I go, someone is waiting for me to return."

Rosmerta's smile was misty. "I'll always wait for you."

Sirius put down his mug and cradled her face the way he had before their first kiss. "Will you come with me?"

"Sometimes."

"Right after I leave school?"

"_Definitely."_

He kissed her softly, until her tongue sought a more passionate expression of his love. Sirius smiled against her lips before deepening the embrace. He could smell traces of salty tears and the perfume he gave her on Rosmerta's skin. Both were satisfying. He didn't want her to cry, but it felt good to know she loved him so much. The perfume gratified a primal need to mark his territory.

_Mine, _he thought, tracing her curves with his fingertips. Sirius shifted his mouth from soft lips to her throat, marking her skin in another way.

"Sirius!" Her fingers tightened in his hair—not to pull him away. "I would invite you to spend the night, but there is no way I can trust myself," she whispered shakily.

"What if there was a way?" The intensity of his tone caused Rosmerta to look up at him searchingly. Sirius' pulse raced from the enormity of what he was about to reveal. "You trusted me with everything," he said. "I want to trust you the same way."

She nodded. "I love you. You can trust me with anything."

He stepped back. "May I spend the night if I take another form?"

Her eyes narrowed in confusion and then widened in amazement when he transformed into a great black dog. "You're an Animagus!"

He returned to human form. "Illegal Animagus. There are reasons…."

"You'd be in trouble for breaking the Ministry regulation against underage advanced spellwork and once you register they will track you like the animal you become when you need to be free?" Rosmerta smiled wryly. "McGonagall's lecture on Animagi convinced me I didn't want to become one."

"I'm contrary. It had the opposite effect on me."

Sirius saw the exact moment Rosmerta realised what his being an Animagus meant. Her mouth fell open. "You…you came round as Grimmy…you listened to me talk about you…were you laughing at me?"

"I was enchanted by you."

"Really?"

He nodded solemnly. "Especially when you wore those scarves—please say you'll bring that dress when we go on holiday."

A startled laugh burst from her throat. "Oh gods, I didn't wear knickers with that!"

"I was tempted, but I remained a gentleman. I didn't look up your skirt."

Rosmerta's smile was soft. "I've always wanted a dog."

"I'm house-trained and very affectionate."

"I know. You drooled on my stomach."

He winked. "What can I say? You make my mouth water."

Rosmerta hugged him. "I love your sense of humour."

Sirius pulled her flush against his body. "Anything else?"

Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

There was a knock at the back door.

Sirius shifted into Animagus form and padded over to the table. He dropped to the floor and peered between chair legs to see who was calling at this time of night.

"Callum, is anything wrong?"

What little the dog could see of the man's face appeared slightly embarrassed. "I just walked Dorrie home. On my way back, I saw your light on and wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine, but thank you for stopping by." Rosmerta's voice held a smile. "If I had an employee of the month award, you'd win it."

Callum chuckled. "Thanks. Good night."

"Good night."

The dog's hackles began to rise when he noticed the man didn't turn away when Rosmerta began to shut the door. Sirius went over to the window and nudged the lace curtain aside with his muzzle. Sure enough, the overly conscientious employee stood rooted in the same spot.

_Get going, Mister, or you'll find out how painful a dog bite can be._

After another moment, Callum turned away.

"Were you growling?" Rosmerta asked, crouching down to stroke his fur. Sirius turned a puppy-dog gaze her way. She hugged his neck. "Oh Merlin, you know how to work those eyes in both forms." She kissed him on the top of his head. "Don't be jealous of Callum. He's nice, not interested. He and Dorrie are very happy together."

He shifted back to human shape. "Not as happy as we are."

She shook her head at him, but blue eyes sparkled with pleasure. "I've got half a steak and kidney pie left over from dinner. Are you hungry?"

"I might even lick the tin, the way I did that first night."

Rosmerta took Sirius' face in her hands and kissed him. "A woman likes to know her cookery is appreciated."

"I appreciate a lot more than your cookery," he said fervently.

She kissed him again and rose. "Thank you. Would you prefer a butterbeer to drink this time?"

Sirius grinned. "Not that the water wasn't fresh, but yes, I would."

After watching him devour the reheated pie almost as speedily as when he was in canine form, Rosmerta said, "Ready to go upstairs?"

Chewing a brushing/flossing mint, he nodded.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" she asked, when he strolled toward the stairs.

It took Sirius a second to remember. "Oh," he said, hurriedly transforming.

Rosmerta walked over to ruffle his fur. "Don't think I wasn't tempted to 'forget' to remind you."

He licked her fingers.

She giggled.

On the way upstairs, he licked her ankle.

"Behave!" she whispered laughingly.

Sirius was relieved her father's door was closed. He couldn't perform nonverbal magic while in Animagus form. His mind was human, but the shape he took limited his abilities.

Inside her room, Rosmerta bent to sniff his fur. "You smell like a seedy tavern, love. You need a bath."

He combined a low whine with a puppy-dog look.

"No, you can't transform once you're in the tub," she said firmly.

Head low in an attempt to show utter dejection, he slunk into the lavatory.

"I'll join you in a minute," Rosmerta called after him.

Sirius' ears pricked up at the sound of clothing removed. He leapt into the claw foot tub and thought there was plenty of room for two. While it wasn't quite how he'd imagined their first time in a bathtub, he was willing to go with the flow and enjoy the view.

She walked into the bathroom dressed in a white bikini.

_Oh honey, _Sirius thought, hoping he wasn't drooling. He lowered his head and lifted a paw. No slobber, thankfully, but his tongue was hanging out. He 'grinned.' She was hot.

"I've heard dog washing is a messy business so I figured I would be prepared." His girlfriend knelt on the mat beside the tub and ran her fingers down his throat. "Do you think I should bring this bikini on our holiday?"

His enthusiastic barks caused Rosmerta to smile widely.

"Shhh!" she said, using a charm to turn on the tap. Warm water seeped into his fur. "I've never washed a dog before." She made a huff of rueful amusement. "I've never washed a man's hair either, so you're taking your chances with me."

"_Woof_."

She kissed him on the top of his snout. "Was that a vote of confidence?"

He moved his muzzle up and down.

"Yes! Aren't you clever?"

He nodded again.

"Modest, too," she said smilingly, reaching for the shampoo.

Canine eyes dropped to the curves displayed by the bikini. They weren't modest, either. They were exceptional.

"You're panting again. Is the water too warm?"

Rosmerta's tone was tongue-in-cheek. Sirius turned 'innocent' eyes on her. She giggled. "You are such a dog."

He woofed.

"Yes, I know, I give new meaning to _dog lover_."

The feel of her fingers lathering up his fur brought contented noises rumbling from his throat. After rinsing the soap out of his hair, Rosmerta reached for a towel on a rack. Without thinking, Sirius shook the water out.

"Oh! _Oh!"_

He liked the sound of that almost as much as the view of a wet bikini.

"Tell me that was a reflex action."

He nodded.

Rosmerta began to pat him dry with the towel. "I need a bath now."

Sirius scooted to one side of the tub and waved a paw toward the other.

_Come on in!_

She pointed toward the door. "Out!"

He clambered out of the tub and hung his head as he reluctantly padded across the wet tile.

Rosmerta said, "Don't be like that. It's only that I don't want you to see me naked until you can do more than see me naked!"

He yipped in agreement, wagging his tail.

Once she shut the door, Sirius transformed.

-

* * *

- 

Rosmerta stepped into a bedroom awash in candlelight. She made sure her towel knotted securely and walked toward the bed, where a great black dog stretched out on the duvet. A note was on the pillow.

**I'll be a good doggy, I promise, but would you wear this for me? **

**Love,**

Her eyes scanned the room and saw the gown draped across the chair by the desk.

"I've never had the nerve to wear that," she said, walking over to pick up the embroidered, empire-waist gown. It was long, flowing—and made of sheer ivory tulle. She took a deep breath. "Before now."

Rosmerta quickly grabbed a pair of panties out of the dresser and went back to the lavatory to change. When she returned to the room, the dog's tail began thumping the duvet.

She crossed to the bed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"_Woof!_"

Rosmerta lay down on her side facing her Animagus boyfriend. She said, "If I had any doubt you were a man transformed into a dog, your fixed stare would convince me."

Guilty canine eyes lifted to hers. She laughed. To his credit, Sirius' gaze only dipped for a moment before returning to hers. She petted his silky fur on the top of his head and down his back. "I never envied other children's toys, but I did envy their dogs. I'd heard dogs were man's best friend, and that's what I wanted."

Her companion made an enquiring-sounding grumble.

Rosmerta smiled wistfully. "A best friend who would ignore my mother—who thought the village was beneath us—and the children who wouldn't play with me because they thought I was toffee-nosed, like her."

The dog growled.

She scratched behind his ears. "It's all right, I didn't have it bad." Her lips turned up. "And now I have you."

He turned his head to lick her hand.

Rosmerta leaned over and kissed his paw. "Goodnight, my love."

-

Weeks later, when January became February, and villagers looked forward to increased sunshine, remembering the way she had awakened her love still made Rosmerta smile. She had opened her eyes to find the warm body next to hers belonged to a man, not a dog. She promptly kissed him.

-

_Do you transform back when you fall asleep? _

_Sleepy grey eyes opened to smile into hers. "No. I woke in the middle of the night and wanted to hold you in my arms."_

_Rosmerta settled her mouth over his again and kissed him for being so sweet. Sirius responded passionately. He shifted her onto her back and pressed his body into hers. He rocked his hips in a way that made it hard to keep her resolution not to become lovers until Sirius had left school. _

"_Sirius," she half pleaded-half moaned. _

_He braced his arms to look down at her with a pained smile. "I said I'd be a good doggy, didn't I?" His gaze dropped. With a heavy sigh, Sirius rolled off the bed. The dog he transformed into rolled onto his back. _

_Rosmerta scooted over to bend down and pet his chest. "You're not good…you're the best."_

_He licked her cheek._

_-_

On the first Friday in February, Rosmerta woke from a dream where a black dog licked her cheek and then transformed into a man who licked other sensitive areas. The images kept her humming _Layla _while making her father's breakfast.

After tidying up, she did a few errands in the village and came back to the Broomsticks. An inventory of the bar to double check that she had enough of everything for that afternoon's custom revealed a few needed items. Rosmerta had just made a note to bring out another jar of cherries when she heard a tapping sound.

She looked up and saw Lucius Malfoy rapping the window nearest the door with a silver-topped cane. Warily, Rosmerta walked across the room to face him through the glass. "What do you want?"

He lifted his wand.

The frown creasing Rosmerta's brow smoothed away. She was relaxed and utterly at peace. It was a lovely feeling. She smiled. On the other side of the windowpane, Lucius returned her smile.

_Open the door._

Rosmerta didn't question why she heard Lucius' voice in her mind. She was happy to obey. He entered the pub, pale eyes gleaming with an emotion she could not begin to decipher. That would require thinking, and her only thought was pleasing him.

_Lead me to your office._

Inside the cosy space, she waited patiently for him to tell her what to do.

_Remove my cloak._

Her hands lifted as though pulled by strings. She unfastened his cloak and laid it across a chair.

_Take off my gloves…slowly…using your teeth…._

Rosmerta blinked. Why should I, said a little voice in the back of her mind.

_Do it._

She obediently lifted his hand to her lips and removed his gloves, one finger at a time.

_Now take the tie from my hair._

Do it yourself, the voice in her head said defiantly. Rosmerta's outstretched hand trembled.

_Take it now._

In seconds, she had unfastened the velvet tie and smoothed back his long, pale hair with her fingers.

_Kiss me._

What part of no don't you understand? The voice within was louder, angry. I told you no kissing!

_Kiss me._

I'd rather kiss a dog…on the mouth…in a French kiss!

The conflict between warring urges caused Rosmerta's body to jerk backwards. Her knees buckled as pain ripped through her mind. On the way down, her head struck the corner of the desk.

-

"Almost done."

Rosmerta opened her eyes to see Lucius scowling down at her. He finished a healing spell before demanding, "Where does a Hufflepuff get the strength to throw off an Imperius?"

She felt too weak to do more than ask, "_Why?_"

He unceremoniously picked her up and placed her in the chair behind the desk. "Because the Dark Lord commanded me to hone my skills, and you would not be able to tell anyone if I failed." Lips twisting, Lucius admitted, "My expertise is in gathering information, not casting Unforgivable Curses."

"Never try that again or I will make you pay." Her voice came in gasps, but the rage she felt lashed out in her tone.

A corner of his mouth lifted. "I do believe you'd try. Very well, I will leave you in peace."

"Sirius too."

Lucius put on his gloves and cloak. "Since you insist, I will not retaliate—this time. If the insolent whelp attacks me again, however, I will not stay my hand."

Rosmerta kept her mouth shut and her gaze stony. It disconcerted Lucius more than empty threats ever could. He nodded abruptly and left. She remained in the chair, shaking in the aftermath. His footsteps retreated. Within minutes, swifter, lighter footsteps echoed in the outer corridor.

Fiona burst into the office. "I saw Malfoy leaving, and the look on his face was…." She broke off to ask, "Are you okay?"

"Could you help me upstairs?"

"What the hell did he do you? Do you want me to fetch the Healer?"

"No! No Healer, I'll be fine after a rest."

Fiona's eyes were stormy as she leaned over to wrap an arm around Rosmerta and help her up. "You didn't tell me what he did to you."

"I can't."

"That's shite. You mean you won't." Fiona exhaled and made a visible effort to speak calmly. "I'm not one to judge people on their...relationships…but if Malfoy's abusing you, in any way, you need to break it off."

Rosmerta almost laughed. She didn't, because although Lucius wasn't her boyfriend, he had abused her. She began to walk, leaning heavily against Fiona. "Don't worry. He won't be back. I made sure of it."

"No wonder Malfoy looked upset…and ready to take it out on the first unfortunate soul he came across."

If he felt any regret over his actions, Rosmerta didn't care. She only cared that he was gone, and Sirius was safe. "Let's stop by the kitchen. I need chocolate." She leaned against the counter and directed her friend to the cupboard holding her stash.

"French or Belgian?" asked Fiona.

"Both."

Fiona stared at her, boxes in hand. "Chocolate counters the effects of Dark magic."

"Yes."

It was an admission. The only one Rosmerta could make.

"I'll whip up some hot chocolate, then," Fiona said in a brisk, motherly voice.

Rosmerta's eyes filled with grateful tears.

-

* * *

- 

Friday afternoon, Sirius finished his essay for History of Magic and rolled up the parchment. Now he could forget schoolwork for the entire weekend.

Across the room, Peter called, "Finished already? I'm only half done!"

"That's because you're a half wit."

Hunched over his Arithmancy, James snickered.

Remus said, "Kindness is to do and say, the kindest thing, the kindest way."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Friar Moony should write a book--A Platitude For Every Occasion." He said, "Fine, I take it back." Sirius cleared his throat. "Little John, Wormtail, dear friend?"

"Yes?" Peter asked with an expectant grin.

"Verily, thou art a half wit."

Peter brayed with laughter. "How kindly you said that."

James' chuckle cut off when someone knocked on the door. Peter was the closest, so he rose to open it.

"Lily!"

She was in robes with her Head Girl badge prominently displayed. Sirius joked, "Are you here in official capacity, Miss?"

Green eyes were sombre as they rested on James. "Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to inform James Potter and Sirius Black that their presence is required in his office."

James stood. "Why?"

Red hair shook. "I don't know. You haven't pulled any stupid pranks lately."

Sirius pushed his chair back. "We pull _brilliant _pranks, thank-you-very-much."

Lily tried to smile. "Perhaps you aren't in trouble."

James strode over to hug her. "I haven't managed mischief in ages. I promise. Maybe it isn't about school. Sirius and I applied to the Auror Academy." He looked over at Sirius with a smile. "I bet they sent our acceptance letters."

Lily seemed relieved. "I hope so. I'll escort you, if you're ready."

Sirius followed the pair out of the dorm. In the outer corridor, he hooked his right arm through Lily's left. On her other side, James said, "This reminds me of that film we watched on telly."

"The Wizard of Oz?" Lily sang softly, "_We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz."_

Sirius thought the tune catchy, but needed a change of words. He sang, "We're off to see the Headmaster, the wonderful Headmaster of Hogwarts."

Lily giggled.

James said laughingly, "If you only had a brain."

"If you only had a heart," Sirius shot back. He was mystified when the couple burst into laughter. He pulled Lily's arm gently. "C'mon, let's be off to see the wizard."

She nodded and fell into step, murmuring, "Lions and tigers and bears, oh my…."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Although The Clash didn't release their first album until March of '77, they did tour with the Sex Pistols in '76. Anyone who has seen the Tom Hanks film 'That Thing You Do', will understand why I giggle when I think of Joe Strummer pointing out Sirius and saying 'Hey, wasn't that our fan?' The white bikini and 'oh honey' were references to Ursula Andress/Honey Ryder in _Dr. No_. I think there is a distinct similarity in character body types. :D The gown is from Victoria's…I mean _Siren's_ Secrets, lol, and Lucius' Imperius Curse was patterned on the one described in GoF. _The Wizard of Oz_ seems to air over every major holiday, so it seemed plausible for James to have watched it with Lily on telly. The readers who made me go 'oh my!' in happiness over their reviews last chapter were……♥ **40/16 **♥ **comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **Dolphindreamer **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawon **♥** FHGVZEhyde **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Lilia Black **♥ **Limaree **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥ **Nuttellamaedchen **♥ ** RahNee **♥ **Shadow-ofthe-Night **♥ **siriuslycoco **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥** The Allknowing Tonks **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ **WriterMerrin **♥ and ♥ **Ylime166 **♥


	30. To Be Loved

The chapter title came from a Papa Roach song that has a very Sirius sentiment: _I'll never give in, (whoa) I'll never give up,(whoa) I'll never give in—and I just wanna be, wanna be loved. _:D.

**Special Note: **FF has been wonky this week, not sending email alerts. If any reader hasn't received a review reply, it isn't because I didn't send one. Not only is it an honour to receive a review, answering them is part of what makes posting on this site so much fun...and I'm not the type to miss out on fun, LOL.

* * *

-

To Be Loved

-

The password was _Cockroach Clusters._ Sirius tried to appreciate the irony while wishing he could do a disappearing act on himself as easily as he had those muffins of Granny Pettigrew's. Despite James' optimism, he didn't have a good feeling about the summons.

"I'll wait for you," said Lily, when the gargoyle leapt aside and the wall it guarded opened to reveal the hidden stairway.

Rosmerta's words echoed in Sirius' mind. _I'll always wait for you. _He smiled. "Give him a kiss for good luck. We may need it."

Lily stepped forward and kissed Sirius' cheek before kissing James on the lips. "Good luck."

James beamed. "Now we're _bound _to get acceptance letters."

Sirius pretended to frown thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. I think a little tongue is needed—you take care of that, mate, and catch up."

His friends' laughter buoyed Sirius' mood. Maybe James was right and Dumbledore wasn't calling them out for roaming school grounds after curfew or being illegal Animagi. After all, why _shouldn't_ the Auror Office send the letters to the Headmaster? They didn't take on new Aurors every year. This was a momentous occasion!

He chuckled to hear James mutter imprecations when he banged his shin climbing the moving staircase. "Took you long enough," Sirius said, when they reached the oak door of the Head's Office. "How much _luck_ were you going for?"

James' eyes gleamed with merriment. "No such thing as too much luck."

Sirius fought to keep a straight face. "That sounded very tongue-in-cheek."

"Hold your tongue and knock to let Dumbledore know we're here."

The boys grinned at each other while Sirius lifted the griffin doorknocker and rapped three times.

"Enter."

Sirius opened the door to find the Headmaster sitting behind his desk, contemplating two parchments. _Acceptance letters—_his pulse spiked at the thought.

"James, Sirius, sit down, sit down." Dumbledore waved them to seats and said with a twinkle in his eyes, "I suppose you both wracked your brains wondering what prank earned this summons?"

The friends exchanged a lightning-quick glance before James responded, "We haven't pulled any pranks, Sir."

"Recently," Sirius amended.

"No, not recently," the Headmaster said with a chuckle. He held up the parchments. "I received two letters from Rufus Scrimgeour, newly appointed Head of Auror Training. Each concerns the status of a particular applicant."

James asked, "What exactly is our status?"

Any trace of amusement gone, Dumbledore said, "I have good news, and I have bad news."

"What's the good news?" asked James.

Sirius covered rising bitterness with a bark of laughter. "C'mon, mate, isn't it obvious? They leapt at the chance to take you and said thanks, but no thanks to a bloke by the name of Black."

James said quietly, "Is that true?"

Dumbledore wordlessly extended the parchments. James took his, but Sirius shook his head. "I don't want to read some 'we regret to inform you' shite from an arsehole holding my family against me."

James looked alarmed at his language, but the Headmaster merely smiled. "I was also disappointed that Mr. Scrimgeour's prejudice—which he terms _prudent caution_—overruled the recommendations of Hogwarts staff, although my language in a return letter was less…colourful."

Sirius half smiled. "Thank you, Sir."

Beside him, James lifted his letter. "Professor Dumbledore, in this list of recommendations beneath my acceptance, what exactly does it mean by _curtail questionable associations?"_

The old wizard smiled gently. "What do you think, dear boy?"

James' face grew red. "If it means get new mates, I think Scrimgeour's a gobshite!" He crumpled up the parchment. "And he can shove this acceptance up his arse, because I won't give up _associating _with my friends!"

_Damn, that's touching._

What Sirius had mockingly told Peter in the Hog's Head now rang true and deep. He reached out and clapped James on the shoulder. "Thanks mate."

"You'd do the same for me," James said with a brief smile, before turning to the Headmaster. "My apologies for the language, professor."

Dumbledore airily waved his hand. "Oh, I have been subjected to far worse in this office, by the former Heads of Hogwarts themselves."

Sirius' eyes slid to the portrait of his ancestor, Phineas Nigellus.

'Sitting' in his chair in Slytherin green robes, the painting called out, "I may have been the least popular Headmaster in the history of the school, but Dumbledore is the daftest! Strong language conveys strong opinions, and I strongly believe he will see this school closed due to his damned…." The rest of the portrait's tirade was silent.

"I wish I'd known that spell when I lived at home."

Sirius' wistful tone brought a gleam to Dumbledore's eye. "Phineas has _strong opinions _everywhere, does he?"

"Yeah, and I was _strongly _tempted to cover his painting with curtains!"

The Headmaster's smile was mischievously conspiratorial. "I send my predecessors to other paintings when I need peace or privacy." He raised his voice. "I now ask that everyone go to another one of his or her portraits."

A chorus of grumbles and one raspberry filled the air before the frames held paintings without Headmasters and Headmistresses in them.

"Rather like second childhood, isn't it, the dislike of being sent to one's room?"

The Headmaster's droll tone made Sirius smile. "I still don't like it, Sir, and I expect I never will."

Stroking his white beard thoughtfully, Dumbledore said, "Then I do not recommend a desk job." His gaze flickered to the window and the view of the Quidditch Pitch before returning to his students. "Have you…either of you...given any thought to what you might do after leaving school?"

James said wryly, "We put all our eggs into one basket, I'm afraid."

"Counted our Hippogriffs before they hatched," Sirius added.

Dumbledore asked, "Your friends, have they made plans?"

"Peter wants a position with Gringotts, but Remus figures he'll be lucky if he gets hired anywhere," said James. "Werewolf Support Services told his mother education would be a waste since all werewolves end up on the Dole, sooner or later."

Sirius, intrigued by the turn of the conversation, asked, "Is there a reason you're asking, professor?"

"There is always a reason." Dumbledore chuckled. "Sometimes, more than one, and this time, I ask because there is a group working in secret against Voldemort and his followers that could use new members with intelligence, skills and _time _to volunteer."

James leaned forward eagerly. "They work against You-Know-Who?"

"Call him Voldemort, James. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

Sirius smiled to hear the Headmaster say what he'd always believed. "What's the name of this group, professor?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

-

"_The Order of the Phoenix…_sounds like a superhero league in Muggle comics, don't it?" Peter said when James finished speaking.

"Doesn't it," Lily corrected absently. She had taken one look at her boyfriend's face and insisted on hearing every word along with Remus and Peter. "I want to join," she said. "I can help whenever I'm not in training at St. Mungo's. I'd like to do more than heal people. I want to prevent people from being hurt, if I can."

Remus said, "I have to try and find work, whatever I can get, but I'll help too." His expression turned concerned. "I know you have a trust, James, but Sirius—can you really afford to devote all your time to this _Order?"_

"Uncle Alphard didn't leave me enough gold for champagne and caviar every night, but I can afford beer, and I'm sure Mrs. Potter will feed me from time to time."

"Feed you caviar?" said Peter.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Yes, on toast points, with a dollop of sour cream."

James said jokingly, "Mother will personally direct Mrs. Stevens to cut the toast points exactly the way you like them."

"In triangles? Lovely woman. Pity she can't adopt me."

Lily said, "She can't adopt you because your parents are still alive."

Sirius looked at James. In unison, they said, _"That's why it's a pity!"_

Lily shook her head at them, but she was smiling as she did it. "Madam Rosmerta was right to call you two a double act."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at James. _Does she suspect about Rosmerta and me?_

James gave a brief headshake.

Sirius asked Lily, "Do you mind?" _Do you mind putting up with our 'double act', with having me around for the rest of your life, if you marry James?_

Eyes that rivalled the emeralds in rings James had begun eyeing in shops were bright with understanding. "Nothing would make me happier."

First James, now Lily—what was with people and ruddy touching moments? Sirius blinked and then said to James, "Nothing? Did you hear that? You need to talk less and snog more if that's the case, mate."

James took Lily by the hand and began to pull her toward the doorway.

"I didn't mean it that way!" she protested laughingly.

"Sorry, love. You know how I am when my pride is at stake. Come along."

She put a hand over her face and groaned. "What will people think to see me dragged out of the House for a snog?"

Peter raised his hand as if he was in class. "That you're lucky?"

"I am lucky, aren't I?" Lily lowered her hand and strode forward, now pulling James into the corridor. "Come along, love."

He winked at his friends on the way out. "Yes, dear."

"I wish I had what they have," sighed Peter.

Remus said, "You have Jane."

"Yeah, sure, I'll go see what she's up to."

Sirius watched Peter leave the room, wondering what new maggot had crawled into a worm-brain.

Remus said, "What's going on with Peter?"

"I'll go find out."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Once, Sirius would have said yes before Remus had finished asking the question. Now, he didn't know how much trust he could place in the good Friar Moony. He said, "No, I think he'll talk more freely if it's just me."

"All right."

The resignation in his mate's voice touched a nerve. If he wanted to go along, why didn't Remus say so? Sirius wouldn't even have asked! To hell with what anyone else thought—he would have been out the door.

Moony wasn't like him, though. He took 'no' for an answer.

Sirius paused in the doorway and said, "If he won't talk to me, I'm dragging Little John back for an Inquisition, so be prepared, Friar Moony."

"I'll dig out my thumbscrews, just in case, Will."

Sirius gave a snicker of appreciation and left. Down in the common room, he saw Jane sitting with friends. "Where's Peter?"

"He went to the library," she said with a smile.

Wormtail in the library—voluntarily—was ominous news. Sirius said a terse 'thanks' and hightailed it to the one place Peter might have a reason to go.

In the Restricted Section, he found the boy sitting cross-legged on the floor, copying the words of a book onto parchment. Sirius sat down and leaned back against a shelf, trying to find the right words to say. He shivered when a draft of air slid past his ear.

"_Mmm…."_

Sirius' eyes flew to Peter. His mate kept scratching away, as though he hadn't heard the breathy, feminine sound.

Another tendril of air blew…this time directly into Sirius' ear.

"_Mmm…Mmm…Mmm…."_

Sirius jerked away from the shelf, scooting to the middle of the aisle. Warily, he leaned close enough to read the title of the text he had inadvertently brushed.

"The _Succubi_ book startled me too," said Peter, looking up from his parchment with the hint of a smile.

"I wasn't startled," Sirius said. "I merely prefer to have a woman of flesh and blood, not paper and ink, blow in my ear." His eyes cut to the shelf when a tetchy sounding 'humph' emanated from the tome. Sirius edged further away. "Are you going to revoke the spell on Jane?"

"Yes."

"_Why?"_

"You mean why, when Valentine's Day is coming up?"

Sirius nodded.

Peter gazed down at the book on his lap. "I…I meant it when I said I wanted what James has, something real. I don't have that." The boy's eyes were more watery than Sirius had ever seen them when he looked up and said, "You have that. I want it too, and if Jane can't like me without a spell, then I would rather not have a Valentine."

"I'm gobsmacked." Sirius shook his head. "No, I'm impressed. Seriously."

"Siriusly?"

"Yeah, that too."

"Shake on it?"

Sirius huffed with amusement and held out his hand.

Peter clasped it, and then jerked it toward him while lifting a knife he had concealed beneath the parchment.

"_Shite!" _yelped Sirius. He pulled his hand away, staring down at the small cut in disbelief. "You didn't need unwilling blood to rescind the spell!"

"I didn't? I must have misread that."

The innocent tone and expression made Sirius laugh. "That was payback and you know it, you cunning rat."

Peter sniggered. After a few moments he said, "You…you're the only one w—who says that like it isn't a bad thing, like you admire…."

"That you're sneaky and clever?" Sirius' shoulders rose and fell. "I do…and I intend on admiring those qualities even more after we clear out of here and you go tell Friar Moony I sent you to ask his advice on what to get Jane for Valentine's Day, since I was dog-tired of talking and went for a run to the village."

"To the village?" Peter repeated with a knowing grin.

Sirius winked. "If I'm lucky, maybe she'll blow in my ear."

-

* * *

- 

She was fortunate to have such good help. Dorrie and Maisie ably took care of business while she recuperated from what everyone thought was a migraine. Fiona had even bought a potion at the apothecary, to complete the cover. It tasted awful, but Rosmerta drank it without complaint.

It was almost a penance for bad judgment. She had used Lucius to get back at Jonathan, and now she was paying for it.

Her body ached in ways hard to describe. It was as if she was old and stiff, and every movement brought pain. At first, Rosmerta had believed some chocolate and a rest would see her fully recovered. After two bars of sinfully expensive chocolate, a mug of cocoa, and a nap, however, she still felt tired and achy.

Rosmerta's eyes went to the door Fiona had left ajar 'just in case.' She threw off the covers and tried to gather the strength to go downstairs and ask the girls if they needed help. Her lips twisted. She didn't have the energy to change out of the old tee she'd worn to sleep in.

"_Come back here you stupid mutt!"_

A huge black dog burst into the room with Callum hard on his heels. When the dog leapt onto the bed, Rosmerta threw her arms around his neck. "Don't hurt him!"

Callum lowered his wand. "I was trying to stop him from hurting you!"

Dorrie ran into the bedroom, a packet in her hand. "Callum! Did you get him?" The girl's eyes widened to see the dog sitting on the bed, licking her boss' cheek. She told Rosmerta, "He—he darted into the pub and ran directly for the corridor leading to the stairs. I didn't know what to think, so I yelled for Callum to follow him."

Rosmerta smiled shakily. "You did the right thing." She turned to Callum. "I hope you weren't called in to work. I know you're trying to get ready for your show."

"No, no, my last painting is done. I stopped by for a pint."

"_Ros! What the blazes is all this racket aboot!"_

"Just a stray dog in the pub, Da! Dorrie and Callum took care of it!" Rosmerta lowered her voice. "Stop by his room and tell him everything is okay, please."

"What about the dog?" Callum asked.

The dog in question was draped across her lap. Even if Rosmerta had been dressed for company, she would still want him to remain exactly where he was. "This is Grimmy," she said. "He's my friend, and I want him to stay." She made a rueful face. "I just don't want my dad to know about it."

Dorrie smiled. "He does look like a Grim." She walked over to the bed and handed Rosmerta the packet. "Fiona dropped this off a little while ago. I was on my way up to see you when your friend dashed by."

Callum gave a huff of amusement. "I thought women liked dogs that were small and cute, not big and ugly."

"Grimmy's beautiful!" Rosmerta cried.

Dorrie giggled. "Love is blind, they say. Come on, Callum, let's go and let her rest."

Through the closed door, Rosmerta could faintly hear the couple speak to her father. She reached for her wand on the bedside table and engaged the privacy wards.

The dog shifted into a young man the instant she laid her wand back down. He rolled to face her. "Why do you need rest? Are you sick? What's wrong?"

"I'll be fine." She lovingly smoothed back his hair.

"That isn't an answer."

She caressed his cheek. His eyes were dark with concern. What could she say?

Rosmerta delayed by opening the packet. Inside, there was a vial, a bar of chocolate and a note.

**Ros, I asked Mr. Harris, in strictest confidence, what he recommended for someone recuperating from the effects of Dark magic. I hope this helps, and if I ever cross Malfoy's path, he'll find out you don't need to use Dark magic to cause pain. Take care of yourself, Fiona**

"What did that bastard do to you?"

Oh Merlin, Sirius had read the note upside down! Rosmerta said, "He didn't touch me."

"Did Malfoy force you to touch him?"

She opened her mouth, but could not speak. Sirius sat up. "I'm going to find him, and then I'm going to make the damage to his face permanent."

"No!"

He scrambled off the bed. "Don't worry, it will be a shocking dog attack, in some dark alley where there's no one to see or interfere."

"_No!" _Rosmerta swung her legs over the side of the bed. "He…I _didn't…_he _couldn't…_." Using sheer willpower, she stood. "He won't be back. He'll leave us in peace. Don't go after him, _please, I beg you!" _She took a step forward and felt her knees buckle.

Sirius caught her in his arms. "All right, I won't. Don't cry. You need that medicine." He placed her on the bed and removed the stopper from the vial. "What's in here, anyway?"

Rosmerta sniffed, holding up the clear liquid to observe the glittering specks before drinking it down. "Faerie dust, I believe."

"Will you float around the room now?"

She giggled, sadness replaced by an overwhelming happiness. She took his face in her hands. "When I'm in your arms, I feel like I could fly." Her smile became dreamy. "And one day, we're going to float on a wave of bliss like nothing we've ever experienced before." Rosmerta kissed the lips that fell open so temptingly.

"Uh…I think you need chocolate more than kisses, love."

"I have an idea!" she said with a radiant smile. Rosmerta picked up the chocolate bar and handed it to Sirius. "Let's snog between bites."

She giggled when he made a noise that sounded like one of Grimmy's whimpers. "No, you need to eat every morsel yourself."

Her frown lifted when another brilliant idea struck. "I'll eat it in the bath." Rosmerta wrinkled her nose. "I feel sweaty and icky."

"You smell fine," Sirius assured her.

He was sweet to say so, but she knew better. Rosmerta took his hand. "There are sweat drops between my breasts—here, feel."

Sirius pulled his hand out from under her tee. "Okay, I'll run you a bath. What kind of bubbles do you want?"

"What kind do you like?"

"It's your bath."

She kissed him for being so considerate. "You'll be in it with me."

Sirius looked confused. "But…you said you didn't want me to see you naked until…."

Oh. She had said that. Rosmerta giggled. "So you'll wear a blindfold. I have a scarf I crocheted myself." She pulled it out from the drawer in the bedside table. "You don't mind wearing pink, do you?"

"No."

"Good!" She stood and swayed, laughing.

Sirius rose and steadied her with an arm around her shoulders. "Here, let me help you."

She sighed. He was the best boyfriend in the world, filling a bath with vanilla scented bubbles and assisting her out of her tee and panties when her arm became stuck in a sleeve and fabric bunching at her ankles caused her to stumble. When they finally settled into opposite ends of the tub, Rosmerta ate a bite of chocolate. "You could've stayed in human form, although I have to admit, you look _adorable _as a doggy."

She took another bite and admired the almost-piratical air of the pink scarf tied at the back of his head.

Her 'grinning' Animagus boyfriend gave a soft, "Woof!"

-

* * *

- 

Valentine's Day was on a Monday. Sirius would rather it had fallen on a Saturday and a Hogsmeade Weekend, but he wasn't going to let circumstances ruin romance. He would sneak out that night, with the help of his best mate.

The thought made him smile on his way from the Owlery to the Great Hall. It was definitely good to have friends in high places.

At the breakfast table, he noticed James, Lily, Dorcas, and Remus were extra smiley while Peter was tearing a muffin to bits with his fingers. Sirius asked the nervous boy, "Did you send Jane the bracelet?"

With a jerky nod, he said, "Yes, I'm w…waiting to see what she sends me in return."

Beside Peter, Remus said, "What do you think she'll send you? A Dear John Valentine?" He smiled. "She's over the moon about you."

"I…I don't know about that anymore," said Peter.

Sirius felt his appetite vanish. Without the potion, would Jane still like Peter? If she dumped his mate on Valentine's Day, he would….

A squeaking noise and laughter brought his attention to the end of the table, where a rat was running toward them through a maze of dishes. It was white, and when it neared, Sirius could see red hearts painted on the fur. In its mouth was a card, which the rodent dropped on the table in front of Peter.

Podgy hands visibly shook while opening the envelope. Hearing a short bray of laughter made Sirius lean forward in curiosity. When Peter opened the card, Sirius grinned to see the drawing of two white rats cuddling with pink hearts surrounding them. Impatiently, he demanded, "So? What did she write?"

"Valentine's cards are private," said Remus, "unless someone _wants _to share."

"Peter wants to share," James chimed in. "Don't you Peter?"

Pink in the face, smiling widely, Peter said, "It reads 'Will you cheese be my Valentine? Love, Jane.'"

Sirius laughed in relief. "Don't just sit there, worm-brain, go tell her you will!"

"Yes! Right," said Peter, lurching to his feet. He grabbed the rat, a basket of muffins, and scurried out the door.

James said, "At least he put the rat on his shoulder instead of in the basket."

Sirius' laugh stopped abruptly when the morning post was delivered. He stood to catch the red envelope dropped by an owl in mid air and carefully opened it.

"So? What did she write?" said James.

Lily teased, "Is that from your _pen friend _who is such a good _friend _that she owls every day?"

Sirius decided to tell the truth, but not the whole truth. "It's from my girlfriend, who is also my pen friend, and writes me every day…and twice on Sundays."

Remus huffed with amusement. "About time you admitted it."

Dorcas scooted a little closer to her boyfriend. "Will you share your card with us too?"

Sirius sighed theatrically. "If everyone insists."

"We insist," said James. Lily, Dorcas, Remus, and several other housemates sitting within earshot nodded their agreement.

Sirius held up the card, which depicted a Dalmatian dog with its paws resting on a huge red heart. He read, "Valentine, you make me happy all over. XOXOX"

"Awww," said the girls.

"AW!" James and Remus said jokingly.

Sirius stood and bowed. "Thank you, thank you."

"When will we meet this mysterious girlfriend of yours?" asked Lily.

"When the time is right." Sirius shook his head regretfully. "According to all the methods of Divination I've tried—shell scrying, tarot, palmistry, Magic Eight Ball—I must wait for a more fortuitous alignment of the stars."

"A Magic Eight Ball isn't magic, its Muggle!" Lily exclaimed.

Sirius feigned shock. "No! It told me _Yes_, James loved you and _Absolutely_, you would marry him someday! Was it wrong?"

Lily winked. "Ask again later."

He leaned over and snagged a slice of melon off her plate. "Believe me, I will."

-

At lunch, the noise level in the Hall rose dramatically when dwarves marched inside to deliver singing Valentines. Sirius gaped when a scowling little man holding a bow and arrow leapt onto the Gryffindor table and snapped, "Sirius Black?"

"Yeah."

Clearing his throat, the dwarf began to sing.

**That old black magic has me in its spell**

**That old black magic that you weave so well**

His mates snickered to hear the dwarf sing about hearing his name and becoming aflame with a burning desire only a kiss could put out, but Sirius appreciated the sentiment of the woman who sent it. He grinned, and gave the dwarf a standing ovation.

-

That night, after running to the Broomsticks, Sirius took a moment to shift into human form, raising the hood of his cloak to conceal his features. He strode to the kitchen door and knocked. When Rosmerta opened it, looking like a devilishly sexy angel in red, he raised his wand and said, "_Orchideous!"_

She reached out to take the bouquet of red roses that threatened to spill out of her arms. "They're beautiful! Thank you!"

He followed her inside, where the table was set for two. "I'll try to do your dinner justice, but I have to confess, I'm not that hungry."

"Why not? I thought the plan was for you to pretend illness?"

Sirius hung up his cloak and watched Rosmerta place the roses in a vase on the table. While she arranged them, he said, "I did. A group of firsties heard about it, though, and brought me soup and crackers."

"Did the girls climb on your bed and insist on feeding you?" Rosmerta walked over and slid her arms around his neck, smiling.

He used his 'puppy dog' look. "They brushed my hair too."

She laughed softly. "As long as none of the little witches ran their fingers through it, I won't ban them from the pub in jealousy."

Sirius bent and kissed her tenderly. "After I gave the dwarf a standing ovation for singing _That Old Black Magic, _everyone at Hogwarts knows I'm taken."

"That isn't why I sent the Valentine."

He took her lips again, in a lingering kiss. "I know."

She stepped back and picked up a card off the table. "I sent it before I got your card, but I felt the exact same way."

He had chosen a card with a black dog sitting on a chair, a playing card in its mouth. It was the Ace of Hearts. Inside the blank card, he had written his own Valentine message.

_My heart is yours!_

Sirius smiled into Rosmerta's eyes and whispered the words that gave him hope, and a future.

"I love you."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: "Call him Voldemort, James" line came directly from PS17. I thought it would be nice to have Dumbledore say to James what he would one day say to Harry. I couldn't resist having a _Succubi_ book hit on Sirius, faery dust giving a high, a dwarf singing Sinatra and can't blame Sirius for not speaking up when his girlfriend offered a crochet blindfold—I'm sure he didn't peek through the holes, lol. Since the story ended before the school year did, I picked Valentine's Day for the happy ending and had fun wading through a mountain of cards to find the ones I used. :D.

The holiday one shot posting next Friday is titled **A Charmed Life, **after the song by Diana Krall. I hope readers will find it appropriate too, and review this one!

The readers who reviewed last chapter and made writing the last chapter more sweet than sorrowful were…♥ **40/16 **♥** alix33 **♥** An Aspiring Author **♥** Carnivalgirl **♥ **comettail **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawon **♥** FHGVZEhyde **♥ **FNP **♥** Freja Lercke-Falkenborg **♥** GraceRichie **♥** ishandtwofourths **♥** jon **♥** ladyofthebookworms **♥ **Lilia Black **♥ **MollyCoddles **♥** Moonlight **♥ **Nuttellamaedchen **♥ **Shadow-ofthe-Night **♥ **siriuslycoco **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black **♥ **Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Sophia Loren **♥** sunny9847 **♥** The Allknowing Tonks **♥ **Watch Out for Yellow Moon **♥ and ♥ **Ylime166 **♥


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